


six to nine (we'll play the game)

by gunhee



Category: Daenamhyup | DNH, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: M/M, also au !!!, everyone's a fuckboy and it's amazing, guys being dudes, what's better than this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-09
Packaged: 2018-03-06 21:34:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3149249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunhee/pseuds/gunhee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>namjoon expected a lot of things when he called a sexline one night as a dare. yoongi was not one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	six to nine (we'll play the game)

when namjoon’s world stops spinning, he’s in his room, staring up at the ceiling and it’s way past “just a little bit more, come on, your parents aren’t home anyway” judging by the sounds coming from the windows slightly open. he takes a deep breath and lifts his head, cringing when the thundering headache blacks out his line of vision for just a second. his room is mostly unscathed, thankfully, since he has a “no shit in my bedroom” policy for parties like the one that took place the previous night.

his bare feet dig into the soft carpet as he gets up, stretching and trying to blink away black spots, his head still ringing. looking around, he thanks the high heavens he bothered pulling on the heavy drapes over the floor length windows that cover most of his walls; otherwise he’d be bathed in soft yellow sunlight and that’s an encounter namjoon’s willing to leave for another time. he reaches for the knob on his bedroom door and pulls the door open, revealing a spotless apartment. his eyebrows lift in surprise; it must be later than he originally thought if the help already finished cleaning up last night’s empty bottles and discarded clothes from the rest of the apartment.

namjoon gets a bottle of water from the fridge, deeming himself still unready for any actual food, at least until his hangover stops making even breathing seem like too much of a job, plopping down on the couch in the empty living room, turning on the tv to have something as background noise while he scrolls through endless daum blogs and facebook updates about last night. namjoon always knew how to throw parties. his phone beeps and a kakao message comes up on his screen:

 

 

> **13:25 mightyirony _dude are you up?? ur worrying me_**

 

taking another gulp of water, namjoon taps a reply

 

 

> **13:26 runchranda _ur just worried ur life would be boring without me. n yes it would be._**

 

hunchul wastes no time sending a reply

 

> **13:26 mightyirony _ya, brat, wanna die_**

 

namjoon plays cool, waiting a bit before he bothers with his message

 

 

> **13:28 runchranda _remember hyung, stressing will kill you_**   
> **13:28 runchranda _anyway_**   
> **13:29 runchranda _when did we finish up last night_**

 

his best friend is probably at home, since namjoon gets replies almost instantly. he can almost imagine hunchul religiously drinking coffee, a cold towel on his forehead as he stares at his phone

 

> **13:29 mightyirony _whats ur last memory_**

 

he tries to recall anything but it’s all a blur of bodies, dimmed lights, too loud music and too much alcohol

 

 

> **13:31 runchranda _didn’t donghyuk hook up w/ ur friend?_**   
> **13:32 runchranda _the dancer one?_**   
> **13:33 mightyirony _ㅋㅋㅋ_**   
> **13:33 mightyirony _that friend has no shame_**   
> **13:33 mightyirony _anyway, after that, ikje brought over his friends he says he told you about last week? there was this one girl, man, you shoulda seen her. at least a d cup._  
>  13:34 runchranda _hyung…_**   
> **13:34 mightyirony _and theyre real too. tested by yours truly_**

 

namjoon scrunches up his face at the screen in mild disgust

 

> **13:35 runchranda _hyung, i have to go, i have a thing in about an hour, sorry. talk to you tonight_**

 

a quick called to her planner confirms that his mother is indeed in jeju, filming a cf for water or a perfume or something, namjoon thinks he recalls her saying even something or the other about a mini drama last month. _wasn’t that in busan, though?_ namjoon isn’t sure but it doesn’t matter, in the end. he’s told she’s due back in around two weeks and asked if he needs anything, or if he would like to leave a message. he bites back “ _yeah inform her she gave birth twenty years ago_.” in favor of just saying no and hanging up.

deciding he’s finally well enough to actually be a human being, he changes, brushes his teeth and, grabbing his key, wallet and phone, leaves the apartment. it’s a warm afternoon near the end of april outside, and he’s just in time to see middle schoolers on break from the nearby school. he takes a shortcut through the park, hands in the pockets of his black jacket, deciding it’s as good as time as any to get coffee and heading towards the nearest starbucks. the sunglasses on his face help block out the excessive light and namjoon sort of regrets taking them off upon entering the semi crowded coffee shop, when the lights make his head throb again.

the girl taking his order hiccups upon hearing his name and he’s really not in the mood for this; namjoon gets his caramel macchiato sooner than he should, with the hangul of his name written neatly, in a cute, rounded handwriting. if it wasn’t for the pain between his temples, namjoon would have tried getting her number, but right now, all he’s interested in is finding a secluded corner and putting his sunglasses back on.

when his wish comes true, he unlocks his phone, and a message from taegyun greets him. apparently minwoo thought it was a good idea to give hunchul mixed booze. no wonder he sounded so shitfaced this morning. namjoon thinks he’ll pray for minwoo’s soul when hunchul finds out about everything the seemingly quiet boy does behind his back, and also for front row tickets because no way in hell is he missing out on that fight. another message lights up his phone, this time from ikje.  
“ _is ym  walelt hter ???’?_ ”  
poor ikje hyung, still having trouble dealing with hangovers, if it’s to judge by his broken english in the text. namjoon types out “ _nope, haven’t seen it. ask hyosang.”_ before opening the twitter app to see over a fifty notifications.

approximately seventy tweets describing last night’s event and a half of his macchiato later, namjoon walks out of the shop, taking a small stroll in the form of the longer detour back home. he’s not really feeling like existing much today and it’s almost twilight when he gets back home to an empty apartment. ikje’s wallet is on the hallway cabinet and he sighs, already hoping the older is too tired to come pick it up tonight.

by nine o’clock, he’s bored out of his mind, already regretting turning down donghyuk’s offer to go out with him, but then again, donghyuk tends to like the loudest, most crowded clubs in hongdae anyway, so namjoon supposes he isn’t missing out on much. the tv is playing hangover 3 in the background and namjoon’s halfassing watching it, mind half asleep, the other half occasionally bothering to catch the dialogue. his phone rings around ten and he croaks “what” into the receiver soullessly, not bothering to look at the caller id. a lazy drawl greets him on the other side and namjoon can imagine hunchul’s smug half-smile “you sound like shit namjoonie.”

he sits up straighter, tossing a pillow behind him for extra comfort, completely ditching the movie and sighing into his phone “it could be worse. i could sound the way you sound all the time.” there’s a small puff of air, staticky and loud “very funny. i call my favorite dongsaeng and yet you treat me like this”, namjoon leans up to scratch at his elbow “no you’re just as bored as me.” as expected, hunchul agrees and proceeds to talk about absolutely nothing for the next thirty minutes, and namjoon’s about to fall asleep because hunchul is talking about some hotline he heard hoseok mention when the older gives him a proposition “i’ll give you three million won if you call it.”

namjoon breathes out through his nose, shaking his head slightly before remembering hunchul can’t see him anyway. “ew no. i’m not checking your weirdo sexlines.” hunchul sighs “fine, then i guess the time has come for minwoo to find out what actually happened to his mercedes.” namjoon’s eyes snap open “no way, he loved that car more than he loves all of us, together. he’d kill me.” and the victory is evident in hunchul’s voice “so do you want the number?”

five minutes later, namjoon is dialing the number forwarded to him by a kakao message. he can’t believe he’s about to call a hotline, and ask for a boy at that. hunchul has some weird ideas. it rings three times before he’s asked to pick a number. by hunchul’s instructions, he’s supposed to either pick kwon or suga. he presses one and the operator tells him he’s being directed to suga. _what a stupid name_ runs through his head.

the voice that he hears next makes namjoon sit up straight. it’s deep and rough, and clearly accented, albeit slightly, as if whoever was talking was losing his way of pronouncing words in the tasteless dialect of seoul. even the “ah, yeah, hello?” he heard has him mesmerized and the voice repeats “hello? are you there?” making namjoon melt before answering “y-yeah. i’m here.” it’s too rushed and breathy, namjoon curses himself, but there’s nothing but a chuckle on the other end “hi” and namjoon finds himself repeating “hi” dumbly. he’s grateful this is done anonymously, because he’s pretty certain he hasn’t made such a fool of himself since the fifth grade.

“so what can i do for you?” the voice inquires and namjoon’s brow furrows “uhh…” he really hadn’t thought about what he’s gonna say after he calls; namjoon never had the need to bother with trivial teases such as hotlines. “i really don’t know how these things go?” he admits sheepishly and the voice hums in understanding, “first time calling?” and namjoon nods in the darkness of his living room “yeah. first time.” the voice never breaks from the calm, collected certainty, “don’t worry, you’re not the first person who calls a hotline because they’re curious.” and namjoon pipes up “nah not me, my friends are the curious ones.” there’s a small sigh of realization “ahh, i see. dare?” “dare.” namjoon confirms. “what’s your name?” the voice asks and he stutters out “namjoon” before even thinking.

“namjoon. that’s a good name.” namjoon is slowly leaning back on the pillows on the couch. “so, namjoon, what do you want me to talk about?” namjoon vaguely thinks that it’s been a while since he jerked off, so might as well kill two birds with one stone, right? hunchul doesn’t have to know. he coughs, voice dropping into the usual deep, raspy boredom “i’ll have whatever the last customer had.” the voice laughs, and it’s the kind of laughter namjoon practiced in front of the mirror a couple of years ago “i hope you’re into blowjobs, namjoon.”

namjoon doesn’t care much about blowjobs, honestly speaking. he prefers slow fucks or even handjobs but the way suga describes what his mouth would do to namjoon’s dick has him wrapping a hand around his growing erection. he supposes he should feel lame, jerking off all alone to a voice over the phone in his living room on a thursday night, but thoughts like that are ushered unceremoniously out of his head when his wrist flicks in that particular way, when suga drawls his r’s, still telling namjoon to imagine his mouth in place of his hand, wet heat enveloping the head of his dick and namjoon’s breath hitches when his thumb runs over the slit. the voice assures him that he’s doing fine, just like that, good, and namjoon’s close. he does one hell of a job biting back his groan when he comes, and there’s a chuckle on the other end of the line. namjoon’s still trying to regain control over his lungs when he hears “i’d call that more than satisfying. good night, namjoon. it was a pleasure.” and there’s a click followed by beeps, signalizing the other party had hung up.

he gets up to change into another pair of sweatpants, ignoring over twenty messages from hunchul asking him what the fuck’s he doing and if he’s chickened out. throwing his soiled underwear into the hamper, he puts on clean clothes and lies back down on the couch, mind swimming in thoughts, and sleep finds him sooner than expected.

the sound of his phone ringing wakes him up too soon, in namjoon’s opinion. he reaches over to the table, knocking over the remote for the huge flatscreen in the process and he doesn’t even bother opening his eyes as he blindly presses the answer button “mmmmmyeah?” there’s a lot of background noise on the other end “did you do it?” hunchul’s probably walking down the street and namjoon peers up from the pillow to look at the clock on the wall. past noon. shit.

“good morning to you too. and yeah i did it.” there’s a rustling sound, probably as hunchul moves the phone to his other ear “i knew you wouldn’t fail your hyung. and?” “and…?” namjoon exhales, hunchul won’t make him describe the whole call, right? “who did you pick?” wrong, apparently. “the guy named suga. look, do you have to know all this?” hunchul laughs “probably not. if ikje asks, i’m the one who made the call. of course you’ll generously provide information if necessary.” of course, namjoon thinks, how typical of hunchul to give namjoon his dirty dares “yeah, yeah. you owe me one” he says and before he hangs up he hears hunchul laughing and cooing “i love you” into his phone.

the day is spent with sungkyum and donghyuk, trying to find ikje then proceeding to chase him around apgujeong-dong to return his lost wallet. luckily, the older decides to buy them lunch, as their hyung and sungkyum mentions that taegyun is planning on going to china for a few days soon after which donghyuk talks about a song he’s making. namjoon wonders if his day can get any more mundane.

his too bright screen shows that it’s currently twelve minutes past midnight and namjoon’s just staring at his phone, debating on whether or not to call again. it takes him another three minutes to decide to screw common sense, tapping the phone app and scrolling through his calls till he finds the one from last night.

like previously, he’s greeted by an operator telling him to pick a number and, like previously, he presses 1 and it takes precisely two rings before the familiar voice answers. “hello?” and a small smile appears on namjoon’s lips “hey.” there’s a laugh which surely breaks character “namjoon? you back for seconds?” and namjoon tries to get comfortable in his king size bed, a blanket thrown over his stomach. “no. i just want to talk to you.” “you are talking to me.” namjoon’s staring up at his bland ceiling, catching outlines of the small lights here and there in the dark “no i mean. i don’t want to talk about sex and shit. i just want to hear your voice.” it’s a lot easier to voice these thoughts in the dark, his identity obscured by the phone. “does that make sense?”

there’s silence for a few moments and namjoon’s one hundred percent sure he fucked up but then suga replies “nah. i mean it’s weird, yeah, i’ve never heard of a guy calling a hotline to talk about everyday things but i suppose you’re paying for whatever you want to hear.” namjoon mumbles “i guess…” and suga continues “so what do you want to hear?” namjoon blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind “how old are you?” suga sighs “twenty one, you can’t ask me questions like that.” namjoon’s eyes widen “yaaah, that’s young.” and suga snaps “well you sound fifteen, so you don’t get to say stuff like that.” but it’s playful and namjoon finds himself actually smiling “nope. i’m twenty. next question. is it hot there? it’s really hot in my room, i forgot to turn on the ac.” suga hums “i guess. the office is pretty big so i guess air conditioning is a luxury. it’s bearable, though.”

namjoon decides suga has a really attractive voice, especially when he talks about how he was almost late to work today or when he complains about his alarm being too quiet to actually hear. the words he shares with namjoon are vague, meaningless details from his everyday life but namjoon doesn’t care, he’s content as long as he can listen to his voice. it’s past one thirty in the morning when suga notices namjoon started slurring his answers, and tells him to hang up and go to bed. namjoon reluctantly agrees when he realizes the hand holding the phone to his right ear is numb. he thinks it’s nice to fall asleep into an orgasm lulled slumber, like last night, but he likes falling asleep to the sound of suga’s voice more.

from the moment he woke up the next morning, to the one something am that night, namjoon’s mind couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t thoughts about suga. it wasn’t even until around late afternoon that he realized that he has absolutely no idea about pretty much anything about the older boy. is twenty one really his age? what does he look like? is he tall? what kind of music does he like? does he like spicy food? does he use an android or an iphone?

suga’s voice that night sounds as calm as usual, although a little bit sleepier. he pauses every once in a while to yawn, justifying himself with “this probably sounds unattractive as fuck” but namjoon doesn’t mind. he’s so intoxicated with the boy’s voice he thinks he could probably just listen to him breathe and be eternally content. he finds out that, yes, twenty one really is suga’s age, that he likes all food, that he’s a proud owner of a samsung phone and most importantly, that he likes hip hop. namjoon’s eyes snap open in the dark of his room, and suddenly he’s not tired at all anymore. “no way.” he breathes out and suga replies with a bored “way.” “dude me too.” suga lets out a small laughter and the rest of the night is spent with namjoon trying to convince him that nas really might be better than kendrick, but suga will have none of that. it’s past three am when suga tells him to hang up and go sleep and namjoon’s tired mind agrees. there’s always tomorrow.

the following week is spent in a blur of donghyuk nagging him to go out with him, hunchul trying to get ikje to give him that noona’s number and hyosang meeting him for coffee in seorae village, beer drunk way too early in the day and suga’s voice. always suga’s voice, late at night when namjoon’s sure no one else could interrupt their little telephonic haven and he’s sure he’s in love with the way the boy pronounces words, the way his tongue curls around his l’s and his r’s, the sleepy roughness of his sentences. somewhere around the sixth or the seventh night, namjoon had asked him why does he always tell namjoon to hang up, does he hate talking to him that much, and yoongi had said “no way, talking to you is like a break from everyone else. i quite like you, namjoon” and namjoon had pretended his heart didn’t beat just a little bit faster.

on the wednesday of the next week, namjoon walks out of his room to get breakfast to find his mother at the table, reading a magazine while drinking tea and she politely greets him, not lifting her gaze from the shiny, colorful paper. namjoon vaguely thinks he sees her picture on the previous page but he can’t be sure and all he does is return the “good morning” and make small talk as he makes himself cereal. it’s not a deep conversation and the things she says, he could probably read in the very same magazine she seems so keen on reading but namjoon’s used to it. their relationship was never anything more to begin with. that night, he doesn’t dial the too familiar number. it doesn’t feel right, with his mother sleeping a few rooms down from his. suga is his own private matter, and namjoon doesn’t like the thought of anyone else even knowing about their chats. he thinks he can wait.

and he doesn’t have to wait for long. his mother leaves on saturday, leaving a note that says that she’s attending some annual award ceremony in japan. namjoon wonders what kind of ceremony takes place in late may but he doesn’t fret upon it too much, not when it’s already dark outside, and his phone is heavy in his hand and he waits until he’s sprawled across his bed before calling, releasing a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when suga picks up “hey. thought you forgot about me.” namjoon hurriedly replies “no, no. no. something just came up.” suga laughs “don’t worry, namjoon. you’re not obliged to call every night.” and namjoon’s gaze falls through the windows, to rest on the bright skyline, buildings illuminated in the dark, “i know. but i want to.” suga’s voice drifts through the phone like a dream and namjoon’s almost sure whoever is on the other end of the line is a fantasy. “what do you want to talk about?” namjoon takes his time replying, as if waging his options “think you could do what you did the first night?” and he’s rewarded by a snort “you’re asking a hotline operator if he’s up for phone sex. it’s my job namjoon.” and then there’s silence, and namjoon’s certain he fucked something up by the time suga speaks up again, and this time his voice is clearer, as if his phone is closer to his mouth. “and i’m really good at what i do.”

suga has a way of dropping his voice when he does this, words progressively getting filthier as he describes how he’d undress namjoon, kissing him, kissing his neck and namjoon can almost imagine his hands on the boy’s hips. it doesn’t take long for his fingers to skim under the waistband of his pajama, jerking himself off lazily as his other hand clutches the phone like a lifeline. suga tells him to imagine his legs wrapped around his own waist, as they kiss and namjoon nods, obeying, with his lower lip between his teeth. it’s easy to imagine a body pressed against his own when he’s this far gone, but his hand leaves much to be desired. still, he comes with the image of suga’s fingers clawing down his back. suga waits until his breathing steadies before opening his mouth again “are you alright?” and namjoon nods, out of habit, before remembering suga can’t see him. “yeah. fuck. you’re really good at that.” and suga barks out a small laughter “i get that a lot.” and a sudden flash of jealousy runs through namjoon’s blood.

they don’t talk for much longer that night; the call is ended with suga telling namjoon to sleep well and namjoon teasing that it’s practically guaranteed now. namjoon quickly changes and throws himself on the bed again, the deep voice haunting his memory as he stares up at the ceiling. soon enough he falls into a calming sleep, dreaming of a faceless boy with a slight accent and a peculiar way of rolling his r’s.

namjoon is woken up by a sound coming from the street through his open window. he yawns and stretches and reaches for his phone, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he tries to focus on the hangul on his phone. the screen reads 12:31PM on tuesday, 8th of june and he gives himself a few moments before opening kakaotalk, messages popping up before he can even start keeping track. taegyun’s sent him pictures from china, and namjoon looks through precisely seven pictures of the sky, twelve pictures of food and three blurry pictures of something that looks like room ornaments made out of toilet paper.

 

 

> **01:52 marvel.J _i don’t even remember what the hell those last three are_**   
> **01:53 marvel.J _i was so wasted man_**

 

ikje’s sent him a selca from a club the night before, with the caption “wish you were here” and in it, he looks higher than a kite. namjoon thinks he vaguely recognizes donghyuk’s unconscious head pressed against a table in the the background and sighs, opening the chatroom with minwoo. namjoon especially appreciates minwoo, not only because he’s the quietest in their group of friends, but also because he feels he can freely talk to him.

 

> **10:28 minwoo2k _do you want to meet up for coffee sometime soon?_**

 

namjoon’s supposed to have lunch with his parents at two in the afternoon, and he’s sincerely not looking forward to that awkward meeting so he supposes he can reward himself with a night out. he quickly types up a reply, asking minwoo if he’s free tonight and throws his phone somewhere beside him on the bed after he’s finished, still yawning and taking his time getting up.

his mother talks about her schedule and his father counters with the company’s plans which will require him to continue traveling across korea. being on top of a chaebol company must be really exhausting. namjoon doesn’t really mind his parents’ absence, he stopped expecting to see them more than two times a month when he was five, but his father looks at him expectantly and namjoon knows that the he’s still the heir to his position in his father’s eyes. too bad namjoon himself never had any intention of becoming a president of an electronics mogul.

somewhere between the dessert and his father’s coffee, his phone beeps and namjoon excuses himself to check the message, but his words fall on deaf ears.

 

> **15:21 minwoo2k _yeah sure, let’s meet up at mokdong at 9_**

 

namjoon would have preferred a cozier place but it doesn’t make much difference in the end anyway. he sends “okay” and shoves the phone back into the pocket of the formal jacket he has on, feeling like he’s about to be choked.

leaving his apartment at almost nine, he’s late, cursing himself for not bothering to look at the time while browsing the internet mindlessly. he takes a taxi, still scrolling through his kakao messages, half expecting minwoo to ask him where the hell is he, but when he gets there, his friend looks as laid back as he usually is, a small smile on his face and he doesn’t even mention that namjoon is almost fifteen minutes late. “come on, there’s a café jeonghan told me about nearby, i wanna go check it out.”

minwoo’s nice, he’s attentive and genuinely listens to what namjoon’s saying and the younger is yet again reminded why he likes his quiet friend so when he says nothing about suga or the late night phone calls, he tries to justify himself with things like “i don’t want to have this conversation right now.” or “he probably wouldn’t care.” in reality, namjoon knows he wants to keep suga private, a thing for himself because if he can’t have the boy in person, he can at least have this thing they have, keeping it jealously stored in the back of his mind.

it’s past two in the morning when he calls him again. suga picks up and almost lazily hums “yes?” it’s not the same voice he uses when he’s working, the voice namjoon remembers he used with him on the first night so he asks “how did you know it was me?” and suga replies “gut instinct.” “that’s bullshit.” namjoon laughs and he can feel the grin in suga’s words “what? i could be really intuitive.” “still bullshit.” there’s an overdramatic sigh “yah you little brat.” and namjoon laughs out so suga continues “i was actually expecting you to call.” “did you want me to?” namjoon tries not to sound to hopeful and there are a few seconds of silence before suga replies again “yeah. yeah i did.”

something in namjoon stops for a moment, then there’s warmth spreading in his chest, and he decides to go forth with the plan that has been swimming in his mind the entire night. suga’s saying something about losing his keys when namjoon interrupts him “can i ask you something?” the voice that replies sounds familiarly sleepy as usual “technically you already did but go ahead.” namjoon swallows, and he swears he hears drumming in his ears, gathering courage to ask what he wants to know “what’s your real name?”

suga sighs “i told you, you can’t ask me shit like that. it’s against company policy to give out personal information.” his words seem unwelcome even on his own tongue and that fact soothes namjoon, even though his curiosity remains unsated. “right. okay.” suga waits for a little bit more “…so do you want to know where i eventually found my keys or not?”

when namjoon says he’s tired and that he has to hang up now, about an hour later, yawning, suga stops him “namjoon wait.” there’s silence and namjoon doesn’t dare move. “do me a favor, look up yoona’s dating articles and the phrase ‘it’s sexual, everything’s boring’.” namjoon’s lost “uh, sure, but why?” and suga insists “don’t ask questions, just do it.” namjoon’s brow furrows “can’t this wait till morning?” and suga’s voice is back to his usual bored monotonicity “you’re the one who wants to know, not me.” namjoon promises to look both of it up, suga sweetly wishes him a good night and namjoon has quite a lot of trouble falling asleep afterwards.

 

> **11:48 runchranda _what the hell does “it’s sexual, everything’s boring” mean??_**   
> **11:50 mightyirony _what kinda porn are you watching, kid?_**   
> **11:51 runchranda _that’s not an answer_**   
> **11:53 mightyirony _yeah because you’re asking a dumb question_**
> 
> **11:55 runchranda _hyung do you know what “it’s sexual, everything’s boring” means?_**   
> **12:01 ikje11 _??_**   
> **12:01 ikje11 _have you tried looking it up?_**   
> **12:02 runchranda _of course i have, i wouldn’t ask you if it was that obvious_**   
> **12:04 ikje11 _sorry, i dont have a clue_**   
> **12:05 ikje11 _ask donghyuk tho he actually uses the internet_**
> 
> **12:06 runchranda _please tell me you know what does “it’s sexual, everything’s boring” mean?_**   
> **12:15 runchranda _today please?_**   
> **12:28 runchranda _SHIN DONGHYUK_**   
> **12:41 runchranda _i hate you_**   
> **13:03 donghyuck _man chill_**   
> **13:04 donghyuck _isn’t that an ns yoon g song?_**   
> **13:06 donghyuck _hello??_**   
> **13:09 donghyuck _you’re fucking welcome_**

 

namjoon looks up ns yoon g a few hours later, opening her profile page and in a separate tab, he searches for articles covering yoona’s relationship, as instructed. he finds no connection, shoving his laptop in frustration and trying to focus on something, anything else for a while. he doesn’t last long, around eleven he’s back, looking at the still open tabs. he’s checking twitter when he gets an idea, clicking on the yoona tab only to scroll down to the comment section, past the “unnie congratulations” and “they’re such a good looking couple” and he actually gets it and he feels enlightened, a rush of endorphins making his heart beat just a little bit faster.

he dials the number just a little before midnight, anticipation coursing through his veins and making him tap the fingers of his left hand against his thigh as he presses the number one on his screen, sitting cross legged on his bed. the phone rings three times, as usual, before suga picks up “good evening, namjoon, you’re early.” and namjoon takes a deep breath “just couldn’t wait to hear your voice. yoongi.” he tries, and the name still feels new and strange on his tongue, tasting of nervousness and something much sweeter.

a small pause on the other end makes him tense, fingers still tapping madly against his skin and then there’s a small exhale “you figured it out.” and namjoon unconsciously smiles in the dark “yeah, you didn’t really make it easy.” suga, no, yoongi replies “i wasn’t supposed to tell you at all, don’t be so ungrateful.” “you told me anyway, though” namjoon reminds, “yeah. i did” yoongi answers.

around an hour past midnight, namjoon’s still trying to adjust to calling suga yoongi and it still feels foreign but yoongi himself seems pleased whenever namjoon utters his name “you know, you definitely owe me something for making me tell you” namjooon grimaces “no way, if anything, you owe me a favor. i had to go through all that just to find out your name.” “hey, don’t get too-” yoongi starts but namjoon isn’t done “i want your phone number.” that effectively shuts yoongi up and namjoon can almost hear the gears spinning in his head, through the telephones and wires connecting them, contemplating on whether or not he can trust the younger. “what for?” the question takes namjoon by surprise and he stutters “ummm, i don’t-i’m not sure.”

before the awkward silence can turn agonizing, with namjoon cursing himself for being too bold, yoongi laughs “you’re so harmless, seriously, namjoon.” namjoon doesn’t dare ask if that’s a compliment or an insult, and the whole phone thing is dropped; yoongi talks about being hungry because he forgot his dinner at home and namjoon just listens to his voice, enjoying every syllable that leaves the boy’s mouth. “you have a really hot voice, you know that?” yoongi snorts “of course i do. how do you think i got this job?” “no, no i don’t mean just for porn. just hearing you talk about your stupid meals is heaven to me.” namjoon swears he can feel a blush in the boy’s next words “uh. thank you?” “don’t mention it, i’m just stating facts.” yoongi calls him greasy and proceeds with his dinner monologue.

after they’ve said their goodnights for the evening, or rather morning, namjoon lies in bed on his side, staring through the windows on the left side of his bed, still basking in the fresh memory of yoongi’s deep voice when his phone beeps. he reaches for the small device, expecting hunchul or donghyuk or a twitter notification but the screen displays a message from an unknown number. “ _you better not use my number for weird stuff_ ” it reads and namjoon feels like fireworks are exploding in his chest. he saves the number under _yoongi_ in his phone and rests his head on the pillows again, sated and content.

the first thing he does next morning is send a reply “ _don’t worry, i won’t. what kind of man do you think i am?_ ” it takes a good ten minutes for a reply to arrive “ _a weird one? don’t text me so early, did you forget i work the graveyard shift?”_ it’s almost noon but namjoon lets it slide, he thinks the older deserves his rest. another message notification lights up his phone as he stirs the cereal in his bowl fifteen minutes later and he grabs his phone, excited only to see that this time, it’s from hunchul. “ _how long do you plan to ignore your hyung? i’m picking you up in an hour.”_ namjoon shrugs, shoving a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, it’s not like he has anything better to do until tonight.

they’re sitting on a bench in the olympic park, watching the sunset. or, at least, namjoon’s trying to enjoy the sunset, as hunchul shoves his phone in his face every few minutes, explaining photo after photo, adding a “man you should have been there, it was crazy” or “you should definitely throw a party again soon” here and there. namjoon mostly nods absentmindedly, listening only with half an ear to whatever hunchul’s rambling on about, when his phone goes off and he sees a little message icon at the top of his screen. he opens the message to read “i’m taking the commute to work. seriously contemplating suicide right now.” unfortunately for him, hunchul leans over his shoulder, staring at namjoon’s screen in silent wonder, “who’s yoongi?” and namjoon flinches, moving the still open message away from hunchul’s curious eyes.

he thinks about playing dumb, but it’s hunchul, the same jung hunchul he has known for as long as he can remember and his lifelong best friend, the hunchul who knows namjoon best, all of his worries and thoughts and namjoon sighs “you have to promise to keep your mouth shut.” hunchul lifts an eyebrow “what did you do?” namjoon shakes his head “no, nothing, i swear. just don’t tell anyone about this.” hunchul’s still staring at him like he did when they were thirteen and fifteen and namjoon smuggled his father’s alcohol to hunchul’s room “about what exactly?” namjoon licks his lips nervously “remember the hotline you made me call?” hunchul nods slowly and namjoon continues, shaking his phone “this is suga.”

it takes a few seconds for hunchul to register what namjoon’s telling him but when he gets it, his eyes widen and he practically yells out “you’re still talking to a prostitute?” and namjoon shushes him “he’s not a prostitute. he just talks about sex-” “so like a voice whore?” namjoon frowns “yeah i guess you could say that. it sounds bad, though?” hunchul’s still glaring at him “i can’t believe this. you’re kim namjoon, you can have literally anyone you want, why are you wasting your time on someone you don’t even know in person?” namjoon shrugs “just don’t worry about it, hyung.” hunchul mutters a few words namjoon can’t catch and he’s looking at him skeptically but he shrugs “if you say so. this is incredibly stupid, though.”

namjoon is still thinking about hunchul when he takes the elevator back to his penthouse; the older talked to him normally after the whole yoongi incident but namjoon knows hunchul’s still not completely okay with the situation. truthfully, neither is namjoon: ideally, he would have kept yoongi a secret, but he guesses it can’t be helped now. hunchul is his most trusted person, anyway. he hopes that’s not about to change.

“a whole day of you having my number and i have not yet received a single spam text. am i blessed or what?” yoongi doesn’t even let namjoon say hello properly “good evening to you too.” “tell me namjoon, do you do this often? call up random hotlines and do this?” his tone is playful but the hint of underlying seriousness is almost palpable. “first time, remember?” yoongi hums and namjoon picks at the stray fold on his shirt, a little above his abdomen “i don’t talk to you because you work at a hotline, yoongi. i talk to you because i want to.” yoongi scoffs “you’re so greasy when you want to be.” namjoon mentions how he thinks the olympic park is one of the best parts of seoul and yoongi says he passes it by often, going home from work.

his shifts end at four in the morning, according to yoongi and it seems like a nightmare job to namjoon; he practically stops being productive after midnight. yoongi adds it’s not that bad, “you get used to it. i just have a very hard time getting up before noon” things like these make namjoon realize he actually has no idea who yoongi is or what his life is like, but at least now, he’s certain he wants to find out. yoongi obliges, surprisingly and after an hour, namjoon knows he’s from daegu, born on march ninth, that he lives alone and something very personal. “don’t laugh.” yoongi begs, “i won’t” namjoon assures him and yoongi proceeds, tentatively “i want to be a producer. like a music producer.” namjoon automatically remembers how much time donghyuk spends in the studio and he mentions that, saying it’s an exhausting but a rewarding job, enjoying the tinge of dreaminess and ambition coating yoongi’s voice.

that night, they end up talking until yoongi’s shift ends, and even namjoon is surprised at how comfortable they’ve grown to be around each other, words no longer spoken with awkwardness and a sense of apprehension. he really, really likes yoongi.

so when, the following thursday, yoongi says he has to stop by itaewon on his free day, this saturday, namjoon closes his eyes and breathes in sharply, already dreading his next words “do you want to meet up there, maybe?” yoongi takes a while to reply but namjoon patiently waits, already preparing himself for rejection, even though he has thought about this for a good part of the past week. “are you sure you’re not some weirdo pervert?” yoongi asks carefully. “i don’t know, the last time i checked i was too busy talking to you to go cat call women or grope guys.” yoongi thinks it over for a little longer “is it alright if i let you know tomorrow? i’m kind of too tired to think right now, it was a long day” “not at all.” yoongi politely thanks him and namjoon’s too excited to fall asleep that night.

he spends the entire next day on his couch, with the blinds tightly shut as he stares at the tv, not actually watching anything and ignoring messages that make his phone beep. when the idol shows start on both sbs and kbs, namjoon decides to go take a shower, telling himself he’d rather stare at a wall than look at a popular group promote a song that’s been playing on the radio for a while now. he hates the song, anyway.

drying his bleached hair with a towel, he stares up at the clock on the wall, noting that it’s only fifteen past nine. time probably passes by slower when you’re waiting for something. around eleven thirty, he decides he can’t take it anymore and he grabs his phone, unplugging it from the charger and dialing the number that has now been saved on speed dial. he supposes he’s fucked if dispatch ever gets a hold of his phone, but he forgets all about tabloids when his heart jumps into his throat after he presses one.

“namjoon?” yoongi asks and namjoon breathes out “yep. hi.” “you’re early. you never usually call before midnight.” and namjoon mentally curses his impatience “i got bored.” “oh.” a small pause “it’s a slow night, who would have guessed people aren’t interested in jacking off late on a friday?” namjoon mutes his tv in the background to focus on yoongi’s voice better “go figure.” yoongi coughs and shifts a little “so anyway. i thought about it,” namjoon’s heartbeat accelerates, “and i’m probably breaking every rule in the book by doing this but yes. i want to meet you too. if you can promise me i won’t end up in a ditch, without a kidney.” namjoon can’t believe what he’s hearing and he swears that right now, he can fly “yes. i mean no. what would i do with your kidney?” “i don’t know, what would you do with my kidney?” namjoon’s grinning so hard he swears his face is gonna crack “i don’t know, what do you want me to do with your kidney.” and yoongi snickers “leave it inside my body, preferably.” namjoon shifts so he’s lying on his back instead of half sitting on his side “alright. you got it.”

that night, before he hangs up, yoongi tells him he’ll wait for for him in itaewon tomorrow at nine. “you know that fast food joint that used to be a pharmacy? near the telecom?” namjoon tries to remember “the one on the corner, across the giant billboard?” “yeah. i’ll be there. don’t be late though, i don’t have time to wait around for brats who tend to be late.” he teases and namjoon laughs “yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it.” he manages to sleep well that night, anticipation thrumming in his veins as he thinks about what kind of person yoongi might be like when he’s not obscured by a telephone.

namjoon’s sure he tried on at least half a dozen of different outfits. he isn’t sure why impressing yoongi is so important to him, though, but he shrugs off even his favorite shirt, saying it’s just not right. he settles for a gray button up shirt and plain jeans. frowning at his reflection in the mirror one last time, he runs out of the apartment, despite it only being eight thirty. there is absolutely no way he can keep still, tapping his fingers against his thigh as he waits for the green light on the street or checking his iphone for the time every two seconds. he rounds the corner, passing the huge burger king, with a little less than ten minutes to spare and he can see the place yoongi mentioned. it’s open and people are passing by it, like they do every day, but no one is standing in front of it, or anywhere near it so namjoon waits.

it’s ten minutes past nine when no one comes, and namjoon’s getting antsy, bad thoughts of being stood up slowly entering his head at this point but he shoves them out, yoongi wouldn’t do this to him. it’s almost another five minutes later that he thinks about giving up and he checks his phone again, no new messages. when he looks up, there’s a group of high school girls passing in front of him, giggling in his direction and namjoon sighs internally, he doesn’t want to be recognized now. the group clears up and he looks up and there’s a boy at the crossing in front of him, looking around.

he isn’t sure how he knows it’s him, but he knows it’s yoongi; namjoon has to pinch himself to believe what he’s seeing because the boy in front of him is, even from this distance, attractive. he’s in a white t-shirt and jeans, a black snapback worn backwards on his head, exposing his face and he’s nervously searching for something, someone and namjoon must have stared too long because the boy’s eyes fall on his face and he freezes for a second, standing there dumbstruck, before walking over to him. “namjoon?” he inquires and yoongi’s voice is so much better when namjoon can bask in its glory without the staticky noise in the background, and the loneliness creeping in the darkness of his room.

he smiles “yoongi.” and yoongi has to crane his neck upwards just a little bit to look at namjoon’s face, and namjoon’s already swept off his feet by the person standing in front of him. the picturesque moment is interrupted when yoongi’s eyes widen in realization and he mutters a quick “shit.” yoongi closes his eyes and rubs the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb “oh my god, alright, okay. namjoon. kim namjoon.” namjoon smiles sheepishly “yeah.” yoongi still looks irritated “you’re _the_ kim namjoon. you’re famous. i phone fucked the nation’s little brother.” he sounds almost mockingly horrified and namjoon laughs “nah, don’t worry about it. no one referred to me as that since i threw that party that got a bunch of idols into a trouble.”

yoongi barks out a small, nervous laugh “one of the girls at the office, she’s crazy about your mother’s dramas. you were lucky not to pick her.” namjoon thinks this could have gone a lot worse, looking at the small smile hidden in the corners of yoongi’s lips and his sleepy, cute eyes. “it was a dare to pick a boy. come on, you wanted to buy something?” he asks, already walking away, turning after a few steps to look back at yoongi, who automatically moves “right, right. we should hurry up, before the store closes.” namjoon rolls his eyes “you were fifteen minutes late” yoongi scoffs “yah give me a break. do you know how bad the traffic from yongsan to itaewon is? i could have crawled faster.” he takes the lead, namjoon following him through the crowd deeper into the shopping district, never letting yoongi’s shoulders, clad in white, out of his sight.

“i totally thought you’re like sixty, and really ugly” namjoon admits as they pass through groups of people, walking side by side, yoongi’s eyes darting from store to store, his face illuminated by bright neon signs in the stuffy, hot night. “same.” he replies and namjoon exaggerates his offence. “how could you, yoongi…uh what’s your family name?” and yoongi humors him “min.” “…min yoongi? i told you i’m a good kid.” yoongi raises an eyebrow at him “didn’t you headline last year for some event that went wrong? a bunch of famous kids ended up in the e.r., if i recall correctly.” namjoon doesn’t dignify that accusation, albeit true, with an answer so yoongi adds “sides, i’ve had this job for a while. there’s all kinds of people out there.” namjoon’s about to ask what yoongi means by that, but yoongi’s hand is in front of him, and he beckons him closer, to follow him. “we’re here, wait.”

headphones are what yoongi wanted to check out, apparently, and namjoon walks behind him in a snail pace as yoongi examines absolutely every single model on display. he seems to fancy big, bulky white ones and he frowns just a little, leaning down to see the price. then, he stands up to look at namjoon “i’m done.” and namjoon lifts his eyebrows “aren’t you going to get them?” and yoongi smiles, shaking his head “that’s not how the world works, kim spoiled” and namjoon can only follow yoongi out of the store as the older boy holds the door for him “so what do you have planned? i’m all yours.” and namjoon trips on nothing, hoping yoongi didn’t see.

they end up just walking, sharing m&m’s from the bag in namjoon’s right hand, talking. it’s nothing deep or philosophical and it’s mostly yoongi complaining about the heat or proclaiming his love for the chocolate drops they’re eating but namjoon is completely content. “i really thought you were going to say no” he says as they turn left into a slightly less crowded street. yoongi pops a red drop into his mouth before answering “truthfully, i was going to. i kept thinking you were some druggie or something like that. but i couldn’t stop thinking about it and before i knew it, i was saying yes. so here i am.” namjoon’s staring straight ahead, trying to clear out his head “i’m really glad you said yes.” yoongi shoves his hand into the dark brown plastic bag ungracefully, grabbing out a little less than a whole fistful of m&m’s. “yeah, me too.”

“your lips are completely blue” yoongi laughs when there’s a bright streetlight shining on namjoon’s face. namjoon smiles, keeping up his cheeky demeanor “look who’s talking, descendant of frankenstein” and yoongi’s fingers reach up to touch his own lips “really? well i’m not a celebrity so i don’t really give a shit about it” and that moment sets off something in namjoon and suddenly he can’t stop staring at yoongi’s lips. he must confess that even now, all artificially discolored, they’re very pretty and a fleeting wonder of how they’d feel against namjoon’s own crosses his mind but he decides to focus on anything else instead.

it’s when the streets become almost completely deserted does namjoon look at his watch on his left wrist “holy shit it’s already two thirty” and yoongi’s yawning next to him “yeah, i know.” and namjoon turns to look at him “didn’t you work till like four this morning” yoongi nods “yup.” it makes namjoon horrified “you need to sleep. come on, i’m taking you home.” and yoongi almost jumps out of his skin “no, you don’t have to do that” but namjoon insists, saying there’s all kinds of weirdos in the public transport so late at night, a fact yoongi can’t deny so they end up next to each other in a taxi, yoongi having told the driver to just leave him in front of a popular chainstore in yongsan. namjoon’s kind of offended yoongi doesn’t want him to know where he lives but he calms himself saying there’s time to find out. he can’t say much, his address is practically as known as the ga-na-da-ra-ma-ba-sa in the alphabet.

when they arrive, yoongi tells the driver good night and hops out, turning around to smile at namjoon “thanks. i had a really great time.” and there’s a spark in his eyes namjoon desperately clings to “yeah, me too.” yoongi just licks his lips “get home safe, namjoon. sleep well.” namjoon tells him likewise and yoongi winks “see you around, kim namjoon”

he’s halfway home when he buries his face in his hands, exhaling. all he sees on the back of his eyelids is yoongi’s smile, the way the corners of his lips curl up and how incredibly soft and inviting they look, perfectly cute. for god knows which time, namjoon wonders what it would feel like to kiss their corner or drag his tongue over the full lower lip. right then and there, in the backseat of taxi with faulty air conditioning, namjoon realizes he has fallen hard.

 

 

> **11:25 donghyuck _you’re a fucking moron_**  
>  **11:25 donghyuck _i can’t believe you didn’t call me for almost a month_**  
>  **11:26 donghyuck** _**kim namjoon, what am i to you??** _  
> **11:30 donghyuck _ok i talked to hunchul and he says you’re not dating_**  
>  **11:30 donghyuck _you know i won’t cockblock you_**  
>  **11:31 donghyuck _so let’s go out tonight_**

 

donghyuk groans, throwing his head back on the back of fake leather couch “i’m too drunk to be listening to taylor swift right now.” and hunchul lets out something between a gurgle and a chuckle, minwoo just rolls his eyes, silently stating he likes her new song. they’re in a club in apgujeong-dong, because donghyuk had insisted they meet up; “it’s been so long” and ikje agreed and so here they are, all in various stages of intoxication.

namjoon’s mind is pleasantly buzzing but otherwise, he’s pretty sober so he just sits there, watching minwoo slowly drip cold water from his glass on hunchul’s face until ikje elbows him in the ribs, unintentionally painfully enough to bruise “so namjoonie, what have you been up to?” and namjoon shrugs “sleeping. internet. it’s too hot to do anything these days” but ikje pries further “no no, don’t gimme that. you’re namjoon, for fucks sake, don’t tell me you’ve been sleeping this entire time like some grandpa” ikje slurs his words and namjoon almost laughs at his antics “tell your hyung, did you get yourself a girlfriend?” hunchul springs to life at that, lifting his head of the table and minwoo almost drops the glass he was holding right above his face “no, he hasn’t but-” namjoon kicks him under the table, hoping that what the tip of his shoe hit was hunchul’s shin, but it doesn’t matter whether or not the shin in question actually belongs to him because his face just slams back into the plastic surface, mumbling something about being warm. minwoo watches all that with a disgustedly amused face, “charming.”

it’s almost four am when namjoon gets home so he doesn’t bother calling yoongi. he supposed the boy deserves to go home early and maybe spend the remaining few dark hours asleep. falling asleep without his voice is a torture, though and namjoon’s eyes see the first few rays of dawn before finally closing.

 

> **17:44 kidoh _i have 2 tickets for 22 jump street_**  
>  **17:44 kidoh _and guess who gets the second ticket_**  
>  **17:48 runchranda _:/_**  
>  **17:49 runchranda _did ur date bail?_**  
>  **17:51 kidoh _not only did my date bail but now you’re being like this_**  
>  **17:52 kidoh _see if i ever invite you anywhere ever again_**  
>  **17:53 runchranda _ah, sorry, hyung_**  
>  **17:53 runchranda** _**of course i want to go see it with you** _  
> **17:54 runchranda _what time should i be there?_**

 

the movie starts at nine-thirty and hyosang buys enough snacks to feed a small country. namjoon leads the way as popcorn-with-legs looking companion tries to keep up “you could at least help” and namjoon laughs “nope. you bought it, you carry it.” and hyosang teases “guess who’s not getting any skittles during the movie.” they enter the screening room, namjoon inspecting the numbers on seats to find theirs as he absentmindedly reminds hyosang “that’s okay, i don’t like them anyway.” and hyosang practically digs his ass into his seat, covered in too many snacks of all kinds “you despicable miscreant”

they end up staying out until past one am, wasting time chatting and making bad jokes at a coffee shop, and namjoon is thoroughly exhausted by the time he gets home. he wonders if he should call yoongi but he realizes how tired he is and he really doesn’t want yoongi to see, or well, hear him like this so he decides that tomorrow, surely, he’ll hear his voice.

when yoongi picks up the next night, his voice has lost the familiar tinge of ease namjoon’s grown accustomed to “hello?” and namjoon’s almost taken aback by how automatic it sounds “yoongi?” there’s a small inhale and yoongi replies, a few seconds too late “hey, namjoon” he sounds reluctant and just a bit surprised so namjoon asks “is everything alright?” yoongi clears his throat “no, everything’s fine. i just didn’t expect you to call.” “i’ve been calling you almost every night for about two and a half months now though” and yoongi quietly agrees “i thought you wouldn’t call anymore. after you actually met me” he admits, and the tone of his voice makes it clear he’s uncomfortable. namjoon can’t believe what he’s hearing “what? why wouldn’t i?” and yoongi replies “i don’t know. maybe you decided you don’t like me anymore.” namjoon’s not smiling anymore “yoongi, no. you’re so wrong about that. i still like you. i like you even more now.” yoongi lets out a breathy laugh “seriously?” and namjoon nods “i’m dead serious. i mean you’re really hot.” yoongi laughs “yah, kim namjoon, i’m still your hyung.” “well then your dongsaeng has needy friends who wouldn’t stop nagging at him until he went out with them” and the awkward atmosphere dissolves in namjoon’s puns and yoongi’s sass.

right before they’re about to say their goodbyes for tonight, namjoon sleepily adds “i really, really had fun this saturday” and yoongi agrees, halfway through a yawn “yeah, me too.” which gives namjoon the push he needed to ask, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice “think you would let me buy you breakfast?” and yoongi’s weird lopsided grin is almost audible “i work the graveyard shift, for the fifteenth time. i get up at like noon. one pm is breakfast time for me.” and namjoon runs his fingers through his hair “then we’ll have breakfast at one pm tomorrow.” yoongi doesn’t sound against the idea, though “alright if you say so” but mentally namjoon’s already planning the whole thing out. he texts yoongi the address of the place when they hang up and the butterflies in his stomach won’t let him sleep afterwards, no matter how hard he tries.

“at first i thought i got lost, then i was like nah i got this then i definitely got lost.” yoongi explains between mouthfuls of french bagel. he looks like he still isn’t completely awake and namjoon has to pretend like he doesn’t find that endearing “how did you find it, in the end?” and yoongi swallows a huge bite, closing his eyes before speaking up again “duh, i asked for directions. hey why aren’t you eating?” yoongi eyes the almost untouched food in namjoon’s plate “i’m not that hungry?” namjoon offers and yoongi chuckles “first he invites me to breakfast then he doesn’t even have breakfast. you’re a weird one.” namjoon replies with a smile of his own “maybe i just wanted to look at you”

his prize is the sound of a metal knife hitting the tiled floor after slipping from yoongi’s fingers as the boy stutters at namjoon’s words.

“fuck summer, i hate the heat.” yoongi decides eventually, as they’re walking towards a mall. “i’ll buy you juice” namjoon adds, feeling the scorching sun himself but yoongi shakes his head “i can buy my own juice.” namjoon shrugs “i know you can, but i want to. i asked you out, anyway.” yoongi turns his head from the cars passing them by to look at namjoon’s face “namjoon is this a date?” and namjoon returns the look, out of the corner of his eyes “do you think it’s a date?” yoongi grins “this is totally a date.”

it’s another three “dates” until yoongi finally lets namjoon pick him up and namjoon finds himself standing in front of an apartment building in yongsan, waiting for the older boy on the street and yoongi slams the door behind him when he leaves, putting on a snapback that makes his brown bangs fall into his eyes “can you even see?” namjoon jokes and yoongi playfully punches his arm “i can see enough to do that.”

yoongi doesn’t really like clubs, preferring walks around the bustling streets, and namjoon doesn’t really mind; he has spent most of his teen years inside clubs on fake ids, anyway. “…and so i told him to fuck off and that if he ever calls again, i’ll forward his number to the police.” yoongi concludes and namjoon agrees that all kinds of weirdos call hotlines. it’s already pretty late outside, long past midnight and yoongi’s eyes are droopy and he almost falls asleep next to namjoon as they wait for the green light and namjoon offers yoongi to sleep over at his apartment half as a joke. “it’s closer, anyway.” yoongi rubs at his eyes “i don’t want to impose…” and namjoon shakes his hand, already turning back home “bullshit. sides, who’s to say i didn’t selfishly ask you over because i’m bored at night?” and yoongi shrugs “who’s to say i didn’t selfishly accept because i’m bored at night, anyway.” namjoon just gives him a look, “i spend all of my free nights in front of a laptop, okay. i am that lame.”

yoongi sleeps in his boxers and t-shirt on namjoon’s couch, the very same one namjoon made the first call from, and after telling the older boy goodnight pretty quickly upon seeing how exhausted he is, namjoon lies in bed, staring up but not seeing anything, thinking about how this whole situation progressed. he thinks about yoongi’s sleeping form he caught a glimpse of while getting a glass of water and most importantly, as usual, he imagines waking up to yoongi every single morning, with kisses and light touches.

“i’m sorry, i practically passed out last night.” yoongi admits sheepishly during breakfast, consisting of boiled eggs and toast, the peak of namjoon’s culinary talent. “i guess i was more tired than i originally thought, he says, taking the egg from namjoon’s hands to peel it for him. namjoon stares at his fingers easily removing the shell he had so many problems with and wonders what yoongi’s fingers would feel between his own “you don’t have to apologize.” namjoon says and yoongi gives him the peeled egg back, laughing “you snore like a bear, dude,” and then his hand is on top of namjoon’s on the table and he’s lacing their fingers together and namjoon freezes, “seriously, get help.” namjoon can only stare at their hands, the contrast of their skin and the way their fingers fit almost perfectly before yoongi calls him back to reality with a finger snap in front of his face “yo, i asked you a question?” namjoon nods, smitten and yoongi lifts an eyebrow “you’re saying yes to me asking for your opinion on beats versus sony headphones?” and namjoon has to physically force himself to concentrate on something other than the warmth he can feel on yoongi’s skin.

yoongi exhales and the sound crinkles into the phone receiver, making namjoon move his phone away from his ear “don’t do that” for what yoongi apologizes, saying it’s a nervous habit and namjoon notes “why are you nervous?” yoongi takes a few moments, like he always does when he’s about to say something he’s uncertain of so namjoon lets him, quietly waiting “i was kinda wondering if you’d like to come over this sunday? you know, i’ve seen your place and it’s only fair for you to see mine. it’s nowhere near as fancy as your huge penthouse though.” namjoon says yes, of course he’d like to come over, because it has been over a week since he last saw yoongi and the intensity with which he misses him is getting scary. “you know the address, right?” yoongi asks, the slightest smile in his voice and namjoon tells him he does, and yoongi just cheekily adds “see you on sunday. don’t forget to bring food!”

his phone is in namjoon’s hand, the messaging app currently open and he stares at hunchul’s number in the recipient bar for the longest time before swiftly typing in a “ _sorry, hyung, something came up today, i can’t make it, tell ikje and the rest drinks are on me next time_ ” and pressing the send button. it’s not that he doesn’t want to see his friends, he reasons with himself in an assuring manner, it’s just that sundays are yoongi’s only days off and he wants to spend them with him if he can.

namjoon has to take the elevator to the eighth floor and then take another set of stairs to get to the rooftop, where yoongi’s apartment is located. the sun is scorching and the summer heat is unbearable and namjoon just wants to get inside, knocking on yoongi’s door hesitantly. there’s a few moments where he thinks yoongi won’t open but then yoongi’s in front of him, in basketball shorts and a white, oversized t-shirt, staring up at him through his brown bangs “you look like someone deep-fried you.” namjoon rolls his eyes, feeling the sun beating down on the back of his neck “very funny. let me in.” yoongi takes the bag containing two bottles of coke and a pack of chips, along with a big bottle of water from namjoon’s hand and moves aside so namjoon could enter.

even though he has been in front of it a few times briefly, namjoon has never actually visited yoongi’s apartment. yoongi often complained about the whole rooftop flat thing but what namjoon sees is actually decent. there’s a small kitchen and living room and yoongi’s bed is near the window, next to a small table with a laptop on it, and magazines and cds and books, along with miscellaneous paraphernalia are stacked and discarded in corners. yoongi puts the white bag he took from namjoon on the table in the makeshift kitchen, turning around “i tried cleaning up but it’s easier said than done.” his hand is scratching the back of his neck and he can’t look at namjoon but the latter just gives him an assuring smile “i like it. it’s very homey.” and yoongi looks incredibly relieved, his arm dropping from his neck to cross with the other one on his chest “so what do you want to do?”

namjoon never really gave two shits about donghyuk’s producing endeavors, the whole instruments and composition ordeal too complicated and boring to him but he’s soaking up every word that leaves yoongi’s lips as the other explains how it works and using youtube videos as visual help, “to help you understand how it works” he says as he clicks on a video of a small electronic device being played, making various beats and melodies. yoongi talks about producing like namjoon would talk about yoongi and it warms namjoon’s heart, because, honestly, he just wants yoongi to be happy. and right now, at this exact moment, his wish seems fulfilled.

“you are so lucky for air conditioning, man, i’m busting my balls trying to not overheat here.” yoongi admits and namjoon has to agree that the small apartment is unbearably warm, even for the peak of summer. “you know you’re welcome to sleep at my place if yours gets too hot” namjoon reminds and yoongi nods “no, i know.” they’re sitting next to each other, not quite touching, it’s too hot for that, on yoongi’s bed, just talking and namjoon is once again reminded that yoongi’s one of the more interesting people he has ever met.

eventually, yoongi nudges his thigh with a knee, grumbling “namjoon, you’re younger, go get me water.” namjoon snorts “it’s your house, what kind of manners are those?” and yoongi laughs “shit ones. get your hyung water.” namjoon sighs in mock annoyance, getting up anyway “you suck as a hyung.”  
namjoon spills water on his shirt opening the bottle and he comes back with a stain of a darker hue on his gray shirt “i won a battle for you and your stupid water” and yoongi’s staring at the floor, picking on a stray thread in his shirt and he looks so deep in thought namjoon has to ask “what’s wrong?”, leaning to put down the opened bottle of water on the floor next to yoongi’s bed and then yoongi’s eyes shift to him, and he looks so pensive namjoon feels compelled to put him at ease “c’mon. tell me. you know you can trust me.”

that seems to be the tipping point for yoongi because he gets up, crossing the small distance between his previous place on the bed to where namjoon’s standing and namjoon has to now look down at him, at his insecure expression and he’s about to say something wrong, probably, when yoongi’s hands reach up, fingers sliding up his jawline until he’s properly cupping namjoon’s face and he takes another tentative moment before he tugs just a little bit. namjoon meets him halfway, leaning down and yoongi moves up just a little bit and then yoongi’s lips are against his own. namjoon’s arms wrap around yoongi’s thin waist and yoongi visibly relaxes into the touch as namjoon kisses him back, all soft lips and pure intentions. their kiss is brief and when yoongi pulls away, namjoon can still feel the warmth of yoongi’s lips on his own and yoongi’s smiling, just the faintest trace of a blush on his cheeks. “was that okay?” his voice rumbles where his chest is pressed against namjoon’s and namjoon looks down at his lips and wonders how he could ever focus on anything else “i don’t know. maybe we should do it again so i could decide” yoongi laughs but complies and namjoon learns that the second and the third and the fourth kisses are just as important as the first one.

namjoon’s in his bed a day and a half later, face illuminated by the artificial glow from his phone screen, displaying a kakao chatroom, titled “motionless min”. it took namjoon exactly twenty three minutes of begging and persuading and three kisses to get yoongi to make a katalk account and he still grumbled about it all the way through the process of creating it.

 

> **1:27 motionless min _work is so slow_**   
> **1:28 motionless min _zzzzz_**   
> **1:28 runchranda _well of course, cause i’m not calling you_**   
> **1:30 motionless min _keep dreaming, idiot_**

 

namjoon sends him a cheeky sticker and he can almost feel how utterly done yoongi is

 

 

> **1:33 motionless min _i’m tired as shit though_**   
> **1:34 motionless min _i want to sleep for twelve years and only have occasional piss breaks_**   
> **1:35 runchranda _don’t you always?_**   
> **1:36 motionless min _shut up_**   
> **1:39 motionless min _actually don’t shut up i’m dying of boredom here_**   
> **1:40 runchranda _that slow?_**   
> **1:40 motionless min _the girl in the cubicle next to mine is taking a nap_**   
> **1:40 motionless min _honestly, professionalism on point._**   
> **1:41 runchranda _do you want me to call you??_**   
> **1:42 motionless min _nah you should go to sleep it’s late_**   
> **1:43 runchranda _you sure? i have no issues with jerking off to your voice at two am_**   
> **1:44 motionless min _NAMJOON_**   
> **1:44 motionless min _you apparently have no shame either_**   
> **1:45 runchranda _ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ  
> _ 1:46 motionless min _go sleep namjoonie, i’ll talk to you in the morning_**

 

namjoon’s heart does backflips at the nickname and he tells yoongi goodnight, spamming the chat with heart stickers before yoongi threatens to block him, and shoving the phone under his pillow, feeling like absolutely everything in his world is all right.

thursday night finds namjoon at synnara, thirdwheeling awkwardly on a date yoongi’s keen to have with kanye’s new album. his fingers are browsing through the foreign hip hop section and yoongi looks so determined to find it, namjoon doesn’t dare speak up. there’s one thing that’s been bothering him, though “uh, yoongi?” yoongi mumbles through a smile “you’ll never call me hyung, will you?” and namjoon assures him “nope.” and yoongi moves to the next stand, still looking for his desired cd, “what did you want to ask?” and namjoon actually has to mentally encourage himself to squeeze the next words out “you and i, are we like a thing or…?” he leaves the question undefined, possibilities he’s terrified of hanging in the air. yoongi doesn’t even look up as he leans into the shelf “do you want us to be a thing?” and namjoon’s just about to say of course he wants to when yoongi snatches a cd from one of the lower shelves “fucking finally. you’re mine now.” and so namjoon’s left alone until yoongi pays for his cd.

that night, yoongi’s sleeping over again, because he can’t stand the goddamn heat, “and the company’s not that bad either” he adds, smirking at namjoon in the elevator. as usual, namjoon lets him have his privacy in the living room but he just backs away from his door and without a real plan he walks into the living room, leaning against the doorway to find yoongi looking at his phone “hey” yoongi locks his phone and looks up at him, turning to face him “yeah?” and namjoon can feel his heartbeat accelerating.  
“i want it. i mean i want you and me to be a thing. us. you know?” yoongi’s expressionless for a few seconds before the corners of his lips curl the slightest “yeah. me too.” and namjoon lifts an eyebrow “so we’re dating now?” and yoongi’s still looking at him with that half smile “guess we are” and that’s enough for namjoon to walk to where yoongi’s sitting and sit in front of him, leaning in to kiss him. yoongi’s giddily responsive, wrapping his arms around namjoon’s neck and pressing himself against namjoon’s chest. if namjoon thought the feeling in his heart was a firework before, it’s definitely an atomic bomb now and he makes sure to convey that emotion to yoongi but yoongi seems to already be aware, an atomic bomb in his heart as well.

“let me get this straight,” namjoon starts, staring straight at yoongi’s face, “you’ve never done this before?” yoongi swallows the water he has in his mouth before answering “ah, not really.” they’re in a mall and from what namjoon can see, it’s already dusk outside, the first traces of night creeping around the clear summer sky. the food court is getting more and more crowded by the minute, people coming here for dinner after work and namjoon now has to perk up his ears to hear yoongi in the cacophony. “you’ve never dated? ever?” and yoongi shakes his head “i don’t feel like i’m missing out on much.” namjoon’s dumbstruck “you’re twenty one, for fuck’s sake.” and yoongi shrugs “i was never interested.” he must think that namjoon’s eyebrows disappeared so far into his hair because he continues “i moved from daegu when i was seventeen and knew no one. that lasted till i was almost nineteen, when i got the job. hearing about all kinds of pervs at works kinda kills the joy, you know?”

the realization hits namjoon like a freight train and he can’t stop the grin spreading across his face “so i’m your first boyfriend?” and yoongi’s smiling too, fake annoyance coating his voice “yeah. great job, me.” namjoon’s still smiling so yoongi shifts a little, slightly uncomfortable by the mushiness of the situation “you were my first kiss, too.” and namjoon thinks it’s pretty obvious but his heart is still beating really fast and yoongi takes the opportunity to counterattack; “your turn.” and namjoon was afraid this will happen from the start but he supposes he has to face himself one day “come on, we’ll walk and i’ll tell you”

it’s slightly colder than yesterday, the clouds rolling in from the horizon and there are goosebumps on namjoon’s bare forearms as the wind blows, not cold enough to be uncomfortable. yoongi looks up at him, “so, mister experienced, let me know.” and namjoon takes a deep breath, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible “i had my first kiss when i was fifteen, with a noona who had her eyes on me for a while. she was the first person i dated” yoongi’s looking around but namjoon knows he’s listening “we broke up when i turned sixteen and she left for college. she doesn’t talk to me anymore.” he notes and yoongi nods, motioning for namjoon to continue “i don’t know, that was the time when my friends discovered partying and drinking and i kinda didn’t care who i was kissing or making out with as long as it felt good.” there’s a gust of wind and yoongi moves just a little bit closer and namjoon reaches out for him, but it’s yoongi who takes his hand and laces their fingers.

 namjoon laughs “there was this one party where i think i kissed donghyuk but neither of us can remember.” and yoongi asks “who’s donghyuk?” and namjoon remembers yoongi doesn’t know any of his friends “he’s a friend of mine. i should introduce you, you’d get along.” yoongi does a gesture that doesn’t mean neither yes or no so namjoon continues. “my first time was with a daughter of my dad’s friend, that summer in busan. it was alright, i guess” yoongi’s grip on namjoon’s hand tightens just the slightest bit “you’re such a fuckboy, you know that?” and namjoon cocks an eyebrow, giving yoongi a lopsided smirk “yeah i get that a lot” and yoongi’s only response is a very sassy “good.”

 

 

> **14:48 donghyuck _you’re fucking taking your skinny ass over and coming to see me_**   
> **14:48 donghyuck _today_**   
> **14:49 donghyuck _i don’t give a shit what kinda plans you think you have_**   
> **14:50 donghyuck _my new equipment is here and you owe me a favor so be bored with me while i set it up_**   
> **15:05 runchranda _you know that offer was for last year only, right?_**   
> **15:06 runchranda _but fine_**   
> **15:06 runchranda _what time should i be there?_**   
> **15:09 donghyuck _six is fine_**   
> **15:10 donghyuck _i’m at the studio btw_**   
> **15:13 donghyuck _oh and bring takeout_**

 

there has never been a time when namjoon was here and donghyuk’s studio was clean. aside from all the machines and the instruments and even the cds, donghyuk liked to keep his desk cluttered with notes and reminders and notebooks and magazines, so namjoon has to wait for him to empty out a small coffee table to put down the bulgogi and the gunmandu he brought, along with maekju for both of them and donghyuk peers into the bag “sweet, i was starving,” he opens his bottle of beer, sitting down on the messy floor, just a foot away from the cardboard boxes containing his new stuff “so namjoon, where were you last week, hunchul says he couldn’t even kakao you?” he asks before taking a swig from his bottle and namjoon sits down across from him, cross legged as he goes through the contents of the bag, unpacking the food from the tin foil “just, around, i guess.” donghyuk grimaces, taking his chopsticks “i swear to god if you’re ditching us cause you have a girlfriend…” and namjoon shakes his head, taking a piece of meat and dipping it in sauce “it’s not a girlfriend.”

he manages to get the meat halfway down his throat before donghyuk scoffs “gross, namjoon has a boyfriend. whatever happened to riding solo, man?” and namjoon laughs, taunting before shoving a dumpling in his mouth “i don’t know, why don’t you ask hoseok?” and the dough goes into donghyuk’s airways and he spends the next two minutes coughing it out as namjoon calmly eats “yah, you eat the best part and you’re dead, you hear me?”

after dinner’s done, namjoon has to help donghyuk with minor tasks around setting up the devices. donghyuk bought a new imac, a mic set and something that looks vaguely familiar. he lifts up the device “yo, you got a spare?” and donghyuk turns his head to look at the black box namjoon’s holding “that is the spare. it’s a replacement. i still have the old one, why?” namjoon looks at it again, an idea forming in his head “this is a maschine, right?” and donghyuk walks over, leaving a myriad of wires on the desk “yeah. do you want my old one? i can’t use two at the same time, it makes everything messier and i can’t keep up” and namjoon nods “if you really don’t need it…” but donghyuk’s already walking over to his workstation, plugging out his old maschine. namjoon inspects it as donghyuk places the newer model where the old one used to be; this one’s gray and white and bulkier, less polished but what truly matters is that it’s fully functioning. namjoon spends almost two more hours helping donghyuk set up and when he gets home, he crashes almost face first into his pillow, falling into a dreamless sleep.

yoongi takes forever to open his door and the bag is heavy in namjoon’s left hand. when he finally does open, he looks up at namjoon “thought you’d be late.” and namjoon’s surprised “hello to you too? i’m not?” and yoongi moves to let him in, “nah it’s only six thirty.”

a pile of dishes lies lazily in yoongi’s sink and there’s a new set of newspaper on his table but other than that, his place looks exactly the same like it did last time when namjoon was here. he turns around to look at yoongi “i got you something.” yoongi’s face turns skeptical in a matter of seconds “what?” and namjoon sticks out his left arm at him “don’t worry, i didn’t spend money on it.”

yoongi’s tongue sticks out at the corner of his lips as he unpacks the bag namjoon purposely tied as hard as he could and namjoon has to stop himself from kissing him. there’s a sound of paper being ripped as yoongi goes through the packaging and then he freezes, seeing the interface and namjoon speaks up “it’s not new, i know you won’t let me buy one, that one was previously my friend’s and he got a new one so i thought you could use this.”

the look yoongi gives him makes namjoon feel like he just bought him the world “namjoon…this is…” he stutters, fingers gripping the corners of the instrument so tightly their tips turn white “i…” and namjoon smiles “do you like it?” yoongi carefully sets his gift on the table, next to the newspapers, and walks over to namjoon, kissing him wordlessly, and wow, okay, namjoon didn’t see that one coming. “i love it. this is probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me” yoongi admits as he leans back, still pressed against namjoon’s chest and namjoon gets the urge to hold him close forever “then maybe you should properly thank me” namjoon suggests and yoongi happily obliges, kissing him again, pale arms wrapping around namjoon’s neck.

namjoon licks at yoongi’s lower lip and yoongi parts his lips, allowing namjoon to lick into his mouth and namjoon decides right then that yoongi’s taste is his favorite taste. he presses yoongi even closer, arms wrapped around his waist snugly and yoongi lets out a gasp of approval into his mouth, namjoon feels like he’s dissolving under yoongi’s touch. namjoon’s kisses move from yoongi’s lips to his jawline and yoongi helps him out by throwing his head back and leaning into his touch, and a flash of apprehension runs through namjoon’s clouded mind “yoongi,” he exhales into his skin in between kisses, “is this okay?” and yoongi nods, eyes still closed “fuck, this is better than okay.” the relief floods namjoon, because the last thing he wants to do is scare yoongi off by moving too fast but the other seems pliant under his touch and namjoon continues his streak of kisses down to yoongi’s clavicle, dangerously close to his collar until he feels hands pushing at his shoulders slightly, as yoongi pulls away.

namjoon’s worry is extinguished when yoongi looks at him with lidded eyes and just a hint of mischievousness “there’s shit on my bed, think the floor will do?” and namjoon nods, mostly unsure of what he’s agreeing to and then yoongi’s pushing him down to where the windowless wall meets the wooden floor and namjoon obediently sits down, allowing yoongi to climb into his lap. the older gives him a small smile “hey” and namjoon’s heart is back to doing somersaults “hey” and yoongi leans in to kiss him again, just a feathery touch at first but then namjoon’s hands are on his hips and he turns just a little bit, so their lips slant together, so he can feel namjoon’s tongue against his own. namjoon instinctively pulls him closer by the hips and yoongi’s hand moves from namjoon’s shoulder to his neck, the other one holding namjoon’s jawline in place.

his first kiss might have been only a week ago but yoongi’s a fast learner and namjoon has to remind himself to maintain his self control quite a few times. yoongi gasps when namjoon sucks his tongue into his mouth and namjoon can feel his skin warming up as he becomes more and more responsive. a hand buries itself in his bleached hair as he sucks a bruise into the pale skin on the side of yoongi’s neck and he’s rewarded with a breathy giggle as yoongi moves back to look at him “that was my first hickey ever” namjoon smirks up at him “want another one?” and namjoon gets lost in the needy kisses and the pale skin, yoongi’s weight holding him in place as his mind pleasantly buzzes and his heart soars.

an indefinite amount of time later, the sky outside already painted indigo, namjoon’s next to yoongi on the same spot on the floor, except now, yoongi’s flat on his back and namjoon’s on his side left of him, head propped up on his arm. they share lazy kisses here and there, yoongi’s lips are slightly swollen and namjoon thinks he’s bound to look the same. yoongi’s saying how the colder weather from the other day made his apartment a little more comfortable for living and namjoon wants to dive into his voice and never resurface. he interrupts yoongi describing the seemingly unbearable heat from before with a kiss, swallowing his last few syllables and yoongi kisses back, giddy.

“you’re awfully cheesy today” yoongi notes when namjoon pulls back and namjoon lets his gaze slide over yoongi’s lips down to the pale smoothness of his neck where four purplish bruises proudly stand out. “i just feel like appreciating my boyfriend.” yoongi puffs out a laughter “see, told you” but he leans up to peck the corner of namjoon’s lips almost sneakily. they fall into a comfortable silence as namjoon watches yoongi play with the fingers of namjoon’s free hand, currently on his stomach and it’s a good three or four minutes before yoongi speaks up again “it’s different from what i imagined” earning a confused look from namjoon “what is?” “dating.” yoongi confesses and namjoon asks “good different or bad different?” yoongi laughs “well, firstly, i never expected my first boyfriend to be a celebrity.” namjoon snorts, denying his reputation even though yoongi insists he’s a notorious noona killer and namjoon shuts him up with a kiss again.

yoongi gives him a look as he pulls away, locks of hair falling over his eyebrows “namjoon, i…” he trails off and namjoon waits for him, he isn’t rushing everywhere for once “i’ve never….done stuff” he admits, looking down, “well obviously,” namjoon tries, “you’ve never even kissed someone before me” and yoongi still doesn’t look at ease so he tries again “listen to me, it’s fine. we’re not doing anything you don’t want to, okay?” and yoongi finally looks up at him, nodding “okay.” there’s a quiet, unsure “thank you” mumbled against his lips as yoongi pulls him down to kiss him again.

 

> **17:26 runchranda** _**i’m gonna fucking kill you for making me sit on the floor**_  
>  **17:26 runchranda _my tailbone is so sore_**  
>  **17:27 runchranda** _**and they’re making me sit every five seconds for touchups**_  
>  **17:30 motionless min _boyfriend of the year award goes to_**  
>  **17:30 motionless min _me probably._**  
>  **17:32 motionless min _where are you, anyway???_**  
>  **17:35 runchranda _gangnam_**  
>  **17:36 runchranda _i have to do some dumb photoshoot_**  
>  **17:37 motionless min _oh is it for a magazine?_**  
>  **17:39 runchranda _yep_**  
>  **17:39 runchranda _dazed and confused_**  
>  **17:40 runchranda _i’m this close to stabbing myself in the eye with a foundation brush_**

 

namjoon gets called by the photographer so he has to put his iphone away, as the makeup artist scuttles away from him, brushes and pencils in hand, but he manages to send yoongi one last text

 

 

> **17:42 runchranda _actually, if you see someone trying to hang themselves from the yg building, don’t stop me_**

 

it’s another half an hour of posing and bright flashes until namjoon’s finally done and he unlocks his phone, seeing yoongi still hasn’t replied, but hunchul sent him a message

 

 

> **17:50 mightyirony _okay_**   
> **17:50 mightyirony _i’m telling u this not as ur best buddy_**   
> **17:51 mightyirony _not as ur pal numero uno_**   
> **17:52 mightyirony _but you need to get back in the game_**   
> **17:53 mightyirony _so i did you a favor  
> _ 17:53 mightyirony _long story short me and everyone else will be at your place at 9  
> _ 17:53 mightyirony _hope you have booze~~~_**

 

supposing this had to happen eventually, and sighing just to get over it, he buys two sixpacks of beer on his way home, thankful to see that the help restocked his almost empty fridge; kim namjoon, age twenty couldn’t live on his own even if he wanted to. remembering all the times he complained to yoongi about not having anything in the kitchen, he puts the beer on the empty shelf in the fridge and goes into his room, opting for a quick shower.

his hair is still damp when the doorbell rings and ikje greets him with a grin “yo man, it’s been a while,” donghyuk does the lame handshake they did since they were fifteen and sungkyum greets him with a bow, which he won’t stop doing no matter how many times namjoon reminds him that they’ve been friends for over seven years.

“hunchul said he’s gonna be late,” donghyuk shouts, plopping down on the couch, “but minwoo went to pick him up so expect him in fifteen minutes or so. or whatever’s left of him.” namjoon gives him a questioning look “why, did something happen?” but it’s ikje who replies while opening the fridge to get himself a can “dumbass took almost half a gram of molly. i swear to god i don’t know how he isn’t dead.” donghyuk’s flipping through channels and ikje sits next to him, and it really isn’t unusual for hunchul to end up in all kinds of fucked up situations, sungkyum explains that he had the worst comedown of his life, but is otherwise fine “he kept calling minwoo-hyung and asking for chicken wings” he giggles.

the doorbell rings again and hyosang’s at the door, wearing sunglasses even though it’s fully dark outside and donghyuk won’t let him live that down “look at this prick, hey asshole, it’s fucking nine thirty.” hyosang removes his glasses as sungkyum hands him a beer “i’m hungover, if you raise your voice again i’ll shove these raybans up your ass so far your liver will forget sun ever existed.” ikje snorts into his can “please do, you’d be doing the world a favor” and namjoon has to open the door once again.

minwoo greets him with a smile which looks almost apologetic as hunchul stumbles into namjoon’s arms “i was dying and my last wish was to see you” and namjoon looks down at him with lifted eyebrows “so you called everyone?” “last. dying. wish. namjoon you are so insensitive.” but then ikje shouts “there’s our little bundle of sunshine. how does it feel being the korean charlie sheen” and hyosang groans in protest to the volume of ikje’s voice. namjoon closes the door as minwoo asks him about his day and namjoon thinks this might not go all that bad.

but it does. donghyuk gets shitfaced after finding bottles of jinro soju in the cupboard below the sink and ikje follows soon after. hyosang drinks to numb the pain of his hangover even though minwoo insists he can’t fight fire with fire. “i’m not, though,” hyosang hiccups after his third glass “if there’s a fire, i’ll just extinguish it. with liquids. yeah” minwoo’s brow furrows “alcohol is flammable though…” and even namjoon is pleasantly buzzed. hunchul’s smoking something that doesn’t even remotely smell like tobacco and he passes the joint to donghyuk, who upon drag, gives it over to namjoon. now, namjoon himself isn’t really into drugs of any kind that much, distinctively hating cigarettes as their scent lingers on him for hours but he screws his rationality, deeming this a special situation. even sungkyum is smoking, in the corner of the L shaped couch, staring up at the ceiling.

namjoon drags once, twice and hunchul laughs “easy there, you’re gonna start seeing dragons if you keep it up.” and next to him minwoo downs a glass, hand in the bag of potato chips he opened earlier.  
namjoon shakes his head, saying he’s fine and hyosang whines “where the hell is taegyun? someone call that brat and tell him that if he’s already late, he should at least bring food.” ikje rolls his eyes at him, grinning stupidly “how do you even eat that much? you could eat a village and still be hungry.” apparently the mental image of hyosang devouring a village is ridiculous because donghyuk bursts out laughing, his maniacal cackle making even hunchul laugh. namjoon almost misses the doorbell going off and hyosang groans, trying to overpower the cacophony “is that taegyun? he better have food” and when namjoon opens the door, he’s facing the one person he wasn’t expecting to see.

yoongi’s biting on his lower lip nervously, staring right at him and namjoon realizes that smoke is pouring out the open door in tidal waves. “um,” yoongi says awkwardly “i thought you might be hungry. i brought you chinese.” namjoon really wants to kiss his boyfriend’s kind, caring self but then hyosang shrieks “did i hear chinese?!” from the sofa and one corner of yoongi’s lips tugs downwards “do you have company over? i’ll just leave” and he’s already turning towards the elevators but namjoon grabs his arm “no, hey, it’s fine. it’s just my friends, you’re more than welcome to join.” yoongi looks unsure but namjoon assures him “trust me, it’s alright. i want you here.” and yoongi can’t exactly say no to that so he steps in, pressing the bag he’s holding to his chest almost as a way of defending himself.

namjoon counts only five people when he returns, yoongi in tow, and yoongi looks all but terrified and namjoon’s hand slides from his shoulder to the small of his back in an assuring matter “everyone, this is yoongi. yoongi this is…everyone. the one that looks half dead, that’s sungkyum, then minwoo, ikje, donghyuk and this is hyosang” namjoon finishes, nodding at hyosang who keeps making grabby hands at the food yoongi’s holding and yoongi looks up “should i give this to him?” to which namjoon shakes his head “probably not, he’ll throw it up, most likely on my sofa.” namjoon looks up at minwoo “where’s hunchul?” and minwoo shrugs, focused on the inkigayo playing on tv “bathroom. he’s either throwing up or dying, none of which is my moral obligation to clean up” and namjoon’s kind of grateful, he doesn’t want yoongi to see his best friend out of his mind so quickly.

he leans in to whisper into yoongi’s ear “donghyuk’s the friend i told you about, he’s into producing, you should go talk to him if you want to” and yoongi nods, still a bit scared “what do i do with this?” he asks, looking at the portions of takeout he’s still holding “i’ll put it in the fridge, for the love of god, let go of the bag, hyosang, it’s like you’ve never even seen food in your life” hyosang’s fingers uncurl from the bag and namjoon smiles at yoongi “sorry. he gets a bit weird when he’s high.” yoongi asks “are you high?” namjoon shrugs “kinda.” because honestly, he doesn’t want to lie. yoongi says nothing more and he leans on the armrest donghyuk’s all but sprawled over and in a matter of seconds, they’re talking.

there’s a high chance of sungkyum being asleep when hunchul returns after a while and nudges him with his foot “ya, you can’t even take a joint.” and sungkyum rubs his eyes “it’s not my fault you’re immune to a whole field of weed” when he sits down, minwoo looks away from the tv to see if hunchul is alright “you okay, man?” and hunchul nods “yeah, i’m fine” but then he spots yoongi behing minwoo, leaning on the wall and talking to donghyuk “yo, who the fuck is this. hey! who the hell are you?” and namjoon’s in the kitchen when he hears his shouts, followed by hyosang telling him to calm down “he’s namjoon’s friend, chill.” and minwoo turns around to apologize to yoongi on hunchul’s behalf “he’s not really himself,” he explains, “bad comedown.” and namjoon walks back into the living room, a hand sliding over yoongi’s shoulder blades “seriously, don’t be a bitch.”

hunchul sticks his tongue out at namjoon and donghyuk continues “anyway, yoongi was it, the most important thing is that you keep everything organized” but then hunchul looks back at him and at that exact moment namjoon knows this can’t end well “yoongi? you’re yoongi?” and yoongi looks slightly surprised “yeah? why?” and hunchul’s laughing “aw shit man. no wonder he likes you. you’re even cute.”

yoongi looks over to namjoon, questions evident in his eyes but hunchul continues “fuck i mean, you have a cute face.” “thank you?” yoongi’s still evidently lost and namjoon realizes hunchul has no idea what he’s saying “namjoon, you shit, i thought all voice whores are ugly but he’s clearly an exception” and namjoon sees yoongi freeze. ikje breaks the silence “what.” and yoongi still doesn’t move. hunchul looks around “what? he is a voice whore. namjoon said so himself.” and yoongi’s wide-eyed stare moves from hunchul to namjoon’s face. he excuses himself, and he’s out the door before namjoon can even move. all he manages to see is yoongi running into the elevator taegyun just walked out of with a confused face “what the hell was that about?” namjoon sits in the corner and feels like shit for the rest of the night.

 

 

> **3:07 runchranda _yoongi?_**   
> **3:07 runchranda _are you here?_**   
> **3:09 runchranda _look i’m sorry_**   
> **3:10 runchranda _i never wanted this to happen and i’m really sorry it did_**   
> **3:11 runchranda _you know i don’t think you’re a whore, it never even crossed my mind_**   
> **3:12 runchranda _just please don’t ignore me_**   
> **3:17 runchranda _i’m so sorry_**

 

three days later, yoongi still hasn’t returned any of his texts or calls and namjoon can’t stop thinking about the hurt look on yoongi’s face after hearing those words leaving hunchul’s lips. hunchul himself had apologized the next day, saying he was, quote, “higher than a mountain” but his apology is useless since yoongi won’t talk to namjoon no matter what he tries. it’s almost midnight and namjoon’s in his bed when he gets an idea and he wonders how it took him this long to come up with this; he grabs his phone, dials the hotline and presses one, waiting. yoongi picks up mid-ring “hello” and namjoon remembers how intoxicating his voice is “yoongi.”

yoongi scoffs “motherfucker.” and namjoon tries to open his mouth but yoongi’s already hissing into the phone “this is where i fucking work. even stupid voice whores need jobs, okay?” “no, i-” “shut the fuck up. don’t call me anymore.” namjoon’s heart stops at that “yoongi, i-” “namjoon. save it. stop calling me, i’m getting your number blacklisted.” “wait-” and yoongi interrupts him again. “goodbye, namjoon.” and then he hangs up. namjoon tries again but he gets a wrong input, meaning yoongi actually did blacklist his number. he thinks he could use the phone in the kitchen, but he’ll probably get the same result, so he gives up and turns on his side to sleep. all he manages to do that night is look through the windows in an insomnia-like stupor, until the first rays of dawn paint the sky pink.

namjoon pays for the taxi fare and exits the car, looking at his watch before sitting down on the bench at the bus station. it’s four-fifteen in the morning and namjoon’s in yongsan, keen on making this right. he waits for approximately twenty minutes for a bus to arrive and there’s only two passengers that exit on this stage; a middle aged, shabby looking businessman and yoongi. his yoongi. namjoon’s breath stops when he sees him and it’s obvious yoongi saw him too because he rolls his eyes with the most annoyed expression namjoon has ever seen him pull “oh shit.” namjoon gets up “we have to talk” and yoongi hisses “no we don’t” so aggressively the worn out businessman looks at them. paying him no mind, yoongi turns around and starts walking home, namjoon at his heels “just listen to me” and yoongi tries to walk faster “i don’t want to, i heard enough.”

“look, i’m sorry” namjoon is persistent, but yoongi’s still his stubborn, hotheaded self “no, i’m sorry. i’m sorry that a voice whore like me made you waste your precious time.” and namjoon stops in his tracks “is that what this is about?” yoongi turns around to face him “this is about me never being good enough for you.” namjoon doesn’t say anything so yoongi looks down, frustration mixing with insecurity “namjoon, we don’t belong, okay? it was nice while it lasted but we just can’t be together.” “because you think you’re not good enough?” yoongi shifts his weight from one leg to another “because you were born with a golden spoon in your mouth and i eat cup of noodles for breakfast, lunch and dinner, if i’m lucky to be able to have three meals.” namjoon’s dumbstruck so yoongi turns his back to him again “just. just forget we ever happened and go back to living your celebrity life” and with that, he starts walking again.

it’s a good half a minute before namjoon comes back to life, following him again “you know that’s not true-” “yes it is.” “and even if it is, i don’t care about it.” yoongi sighs in annoyance and namjoon’s grateful for his long legs because he catches up to yoongi in no time “yoongi, i don’t give a fuck about what you have or how much money you’re worth” they’re almost in front of yoongi’s building and yoongi tries to shake him off however namjoon is unrelenting and he pulls on yoongi’s arm to stop him from leaving. he tries to protest but namjoon pulls him close, wrapping his arms around yoongi’s smaller body “i care about you, okay, only yourself.” yoongi’s still trying to break free so namjoon looks at him “i love you, yoongi.”

and there it is. even though namjoon knew what he felt for the longest time, he never told yoongi in fear of scaring him off and now that the words left his lips, he feels vulnerable. yoongi goes as stiff as a board in his arms but he looks up to meet namjoon’s gaze and namjoon repeats it “i love you.” the lack of response he’s getting makes him more and more anxious with each passing second but then yoongi speaks up “i love you too.” and it’s so quiet namjoon doubts he even heard it even if he’s sure yoongi’s lips moved. “i love you a lot.” yoongi says, not a hint of anything but honesty in both his eyes and his tone. namjoon properly hugs him, arms around his waist “and i’m really sorry about what happened. hunchul’s sorry too. please don’t be mad at me.”

 yoongi takes a second to think about it before he relaxes in namjoon’s arms “you’re lucky i’m in love with you, kim namjoon” and namjoon presses his forehead against yoongi’s gently “i am.” yoongi laughs “why do i tolerate your cheesy ass?” and namjoon’s smiling “because you love me?” and yoongi confirms it “yeah, true” before kissing him and namjoon finally feels at ease again.

 

 

> **19:14 motionless min _i looked donghyuk up_**   
> **19:14 motionless min _damn you weren’t kidding when you said he’s good_**   
> **19:16 runchranda _yeah he’s rly talented_**   
> **19:17 runchranda _if u tell him i said that i’ll probably die_**   
> **19:18 motionless min _ㅋㅋㅋ  
> _ 19:18 motionless min _well, Boyfriend_**   
> **19:19 motionless min _buy me lunch and i’ll think about keeping my mouth shut_**

 

two days later, namjoon wakes up with his arms full of yoongi. the other is still sleeping soundly, lips parted and eyelashes casting the smallest shadows on his pale cheeks. he looks positively gorgeous up close and namjoon can’t help but stare. last night was the first time yoongi sneaked into namjoon’s bed, after asking for permission and, honestly, how could namjoon say no to yoongi tugging on his shirt nervously at the bottom of his bed, eyes too shy to look straight at namjoon’s face? the answer is; he couldn’t and so yoongi curled up against namjoon’s chest and namjoon himself wanted to scream from happiness. right now, yoongi’s head is on namjoon’s shoulder and even though it’s still unbearably hot outside, yoongi’s still half draped over namjoon’s body but the other doesn’t seem to mind. namjoon spends the twenty four minutes yoongi takes to wake up thinking about opening his eyes to this sight every morning.

“i like your friend” sungkyum says casually over a bowl of ice cream. they’re at a café in hongdae and even thirty minutes into their meet, donghyuk’s still missing. “boyfriend,” namjoon corrects him, “he’s my boyfriend.” he’s pretty anxious about the response he might get but sungkyum just lifts an eyebrow “namjoon does he know he’s your boyfriend?” through a breath namjoon didn’t know he was holding, he smiles “i should hope so, i asked him to be” and sungkyum shrugs “he’s too good for your damn self” but it’s ignored because at that time donghyuk’s head pops up behind him and namjoon’s smile turns into a lazy half smirk “what, get lost?” donghyuk slides into the chair between sungkyum and the wall, giving namjoon a glare. sungkyum lets him order the biggest ice cream on the menu and a beer before idly saying “namjoon has a boyfriend.” donghyuk looks at namjoon, looking for validation of the statement and namjoon pretends to stare at his phone. finally all donghyuk says is “i know. i’m keeping yoongi hyung in my prayers. he’ll definitely need it.” “yah shin donghyuk instead of praying why don’t you comb that head of yours?” namjoon gets a spoonful of the biggest ice cream on the menu shoved into his cheek at that.

yoongi arrives fashionably late, as usual. he’s supposed to spend the weekend at namjoon’s and namjoon would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. he told hunchul about his plans and hunchul kindly reminded him of the importance of protection and sent exactly six pictures of condoms and three condom jokes. ikje was more mature but namjoon’s pretty certain it’s only because minwoo was in his immediate proximity. he thinks he’ll have to thank his silent hyung one of these days.

thirtyish minutes past their original meetup time there’s a knock on the front door and namjoon gets up from the couch, taking slow, lazy steps towards the hallway. when he opens, yoongi’s looking up at him, slightly breathless “i took a nap and i overslept and it was seven before i even knew-” he probably has a lot more to say but namjoon pulls him into the apartment, pressing him into the closed door before kissing him and yoongi eagerly kisses back, smiling “guess that means i’m forgiven” namjoon nods, pulling away to take the backpack from yoongi before walking into the living room “are you hungry?” yoongi’s trailing behind him, trying to get adjusted to the cool temperature and the semi darkness of namjoon’s apartment “nah not really. the heat killed my appetite.” namjoon laughs “it’s not even that hot” yoongi snorts “but i am” “yeah. you are.”

they’re on the couch in namjoon’s room, and mtv is playing in the background on the flat screen, almost on mute but not quite. namjoon’s still keeping his distance from yoongi but the other seems oddly responsive, intentionally pressing himself into namjoon’s side, despite constantly complaining about the heat of the summer’s end. he might roll his eyes, but namjoon has to admit this attention feels nice, especially when yoongi’s lips press against his own, shutting him up mid sentence and whatever namjoon was saying doesn’t matter now when yoongi’s so eager and so perfectly willing in his arms.

namjoon almost stops both of them when he’s pretty sure things have gone too far, his hand under yoongi’s shirt, warm fingers rubbing circles into the boy’s lower back but yoongi pulls back first “namjoon, get me water, i’m thirsty.” and he sounds demanding and as threatening as a puppy so namjoon gets up “of course you are”, but there’s a smile playing in the corner of his lips.

he returns with yoongi’s glass of water, “i even gave you ice look at how good i am” but yoongi’s sitting on the couch, legs pressed into his chest and he looks so pensive namjoon thinks something must have happened while he was gone but yoongi just motions for him to come closer and namjoon cautiously obliges after putting the glass down on the nearby table, taking small steps towards him “is everything alright?” he asks, voice laced with worry but yoongi just wraps namjoon’s arms around himself, nodding. namjoon’s beyond confused “yoongi?” but yoongi just holds onto him tighter “namjoon i love you” and namjoon relaxes into the hug “hey i love you too.” yoongi stays silent for a few seconds too long again because namjoon asks “what’s wrong?” and yoongi looks up, finally, eyes nervous but excited “i thought about it and,” there’s a small pause, “i want my first time to be with you.”

namjoon may have noticed the change in the air between them today, a slight difference than usual but he was not expecting this. yoongi still expects an answer though and namjoon can’t find his voice, so yoongi helps him out “if you want to, i mean. we don’t have to. but i want to. yeah.” he clears his throat and the sound snaps namjoon back to reality “shit, yoongi, are you sure, that’s a big step” yoongi rolls his eyes “namjoon, virginity is a social construct. if i want to have sex with you, i want to.” his eyes look certain and namjoon’s once again reminded that yoongi isn’t a kid. “i want to, too.” as a return, he gets a lap full of yoongi who only mutters “so then what are you waiting for, idiot?” before kissing him, lips determined on namjoon’s.

yoongi’s body is, expectedly, as pale as the rest of him, the expanse of smooth skin almost an overwhelming sight and namjoon has to remind himself how to breathe. he has no idea when exactly they moved to the bed but yoongi’s on his back underneath him and namjoon has imagined this exact scene so many times in his head, but none of those times can even compare to the intensity of the look yoongi’s giving him right now, slightly glazed, just the tiniest bit scared but full of trust. namjoon kisses him once, twice and then yoongi’s tugging on his shirt, making namjoon sit up to lift it over his head before throwing it away, somewhere to the corner and yoongi’s kissing him again, licking into his mouth slowly and there’s nothing nervous about the way he lets namjoon touch him wherever the younger wishes.

“namjoon, i’ve still never done this.” yoongi states and namjoon just looks at him, a little confused as to why yoongi’s telling him this “i know. you know how it works, right?” and yoongi’s mouth pulls into a wonderfully sarcastic frown “you remember what i do for a living, right?” namjoon shrugs “then you’re pretty much covered.” he leans back down to kiss yoongi once again but the older moves back “no, isn’t it different than in theory?” namjoon brings his hands on either side of yoongi’s shoulders to support himself on his arms “i guess. we don’t have to do it though.” but yoongi won’t even hear of it “no i want to. i mean i want you. i want to fuck you. or have you fuck me. either way’s fine.” namjoon nods “alright. i can work with that. i’ll be gentle, i promise.” and that’s all it takes for yoongi to give in.

yoongi lets his fingers skim up namjoon’s bare sides, almost completely relaxed, as namjoon kisses him, still on top of yoongi’s body. namjoon’s left thigh is between yoongi’s legs and namjoon’s already lightheaded. even through his lust, he’s definitely certain that he has to make this a good experience for yoongi and even though he’s pretty sure they’re going too fast, yoongi seems nothing but willing.

he isn’t prepared, however, for the hitch of yoongi’s breath when namjoon takes off his pants, pulling his underwear down with it and wraps a big hand around yoongi’s half hard dick. yoongi kills a choke in the base of his throat when namjoon’s palm moves, working on bringing yoongi to full hardness and he mutters out “fuck” into namjoon’s tan shoulder. “fuck this feels good” and namjoon can’t wipe the self satisfactory smirk off his face “didn’t you ever jerk off?” yoongi’s lower lip is sucked in between his teeth as he shakes his head “all i know i’ve seen in porn.” and it honestly takes namjoon by surprise “porn ain’t shit, though. you’ll see.”

with that, namjoon’s thumb runs over the slit of yoongi’s dick and he’s trying so hard to ignore his own erection against the tightness of his cut off jeans. the sounds erupting from yoongi’s throat are a reward on their own, especially as namjoon can see just how ruined yoongi is and it makes his chest swell with pride because min yoongi, the same min yoongi who describes sex so well is now panting and shuddering because of him.

namjoon pulls away quickly, unbuttoning his own pants as yoongi’s stare follows him around, eyes half lidded and clouded with lust, the same want namjoon feels pooling in his stomach. he leans over yoongi again, “yoongi are you sure?” and yoongi bites back “do i fucking look insecure to you right now?” namjoon can see just how hard the other is so he throws caution to the wind “guess not” before reaching up for the drawer in his nightstand, for a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms.

“this might feel uncomfortable” namjoon warns with his lips all but pressed into the side of yoongi’s neck and all yoongi replies with is a curt nod, allowing namjoon to stretch him with lube coated fingers. namjoon supposes this must be uncomfortable but yoongi takes it all in stoically, spine arching slightly and the bite on his lip the only sign he’s currently got two fingers up his ass. trying his best to avoid hurting yoongi, namjoon takes even more time than necessary stretching him, slowly adding a third finger and only when yoongi willingly moves back against his fingers does namjoon deem him ready, hesitantly.

he sits back on his legs, thighs spread so he can roll the condom on himself and yoongi looks so sinfully good, hands curled into the sheets while trying to bury his face into the black pillowcase. namjoon can barely believe this is his yoongi, the one who bashfully smiles at compliments and the one who complains about everything; from heat to his blanket. all he knows is that the person lying in front of him, reduced to a moaning mess, drives him crazy.

he coats his dick in lube, probably more than necessary and yoongi whines out “you fucking take forever, hurry up, asshole” but then namjoon’s looming over him again “whatever you want, babe” and he presses a small peck to yoongi’s parted lips before gripping his hips carefully. yoongi almost instinctively spreads his legs for him to fit comfortably between them and namjoon cautiously aligns his dick with yoongi’s entrance.

the hiss yoongi lets out as namjoon slides all the way in is halfway between pain and pleasure but he doesn’t say anything more, so namjoon lets him adjust to the foreign feeling of being filled, using all his willpower to stay completely still, because yoongi is so tight and so warm and so perfect. he tries to distract them both by leaving butterfly kisses all over yoongi’s neck and collarbones and yoongi’s arms come up to wrap around namjoon’s shoulders and he breathes out “you can move.”

namjoon tentatively pulls his hips back to thrust shallowly and by the fifth thrust, it’s evident that the pleasure is overtaking the pain inside yoongi, his eyes closing and his head rolling back. “fuck” and “namjoon” are the only words he seems to be capable of saying at the moment and it urges namjoon to go deeper, faster.

yoongi’s legs wrap around namjoon’s waist and he’s completely curled up around namjoon’s taller shape, clinging to him for dear life as namjoon fucks him. namjoon moves his hand from yoongi’s hip, across his ass, to move his thigh just a little higher so he could thrust into him at a different angle and yoongi lets out such a beautiful moan, namjoon thinks he could come just from the sounds yoongi’s making.

the grip yoongi’s hands have on namjoon’s shoulders tightens and namjoon guesses yoongi’s close. his free hand reaches between their bare, sweat-slicked bodies to jerk yoongi off in time with his thrusts and he must have been right because yoongi comes a minute later, coating namjoon’s hand and their chests with cum. namjoon’s close himself and he fucks yoongi through his orgasm, thrusting into him deeply one last time before he’s coming into the condom, still inside of yoongi. he grunts into the crook of yoongi’s neck when his vision goes completely white and yoongi’s still clinging to him so tightly namjoon can’t even think about anything but yoongi, his yoongi.

he presses a messy kiss onto yoongi’s mouth before pulling out and rolling off the condom to lie down beside yoongi, who is still trying to breathe normally. namjoon stares at his face but there’s nothing but a light blush of bliss dusting yoongi’s cheeks. “i love you,” but it sounds breathless, too rushed, so yoongi tries again, calmer this time “i love you namjoon.” namjoon can’t stop the smile from spreading over his face “i love you too.”

when namjoon wakes up, yoongi’s trying to hide the fact that he was staring at him. namjoon reaches over the bed to wrap an arm around yoongi “do you think i was born yesterday?” ruffling yoongi’s brown locks and yoongi tries to slap his hand away from his hair, but in vain.

yoongi finally calms soon after, chin on his palms on namjoon’s chest and there’s a lazy smile on namjoon’s lips “did you plan this?” yoongi lifts an eyebrow too quickly, “why do you think i planned this?” and namjoon shrugs “whenever you ask me to bring you water, something’s bound to happen.” yoongi groans, hiding his face in his hands, still on namjoon’s chest “yah not everyone has ulterior motives.” “you do.” yoongi lets it slide with a shrug.

exactly two weeks later, namjoon’s in ilsan. this is his eighth day in the apartment his family owns but never uses and for the first few days, his phone beeped and vibrated almost non stop but now all he gets is an occasional text from donghyuk or a katalk message. he jumps almost every time his phone lights up but it’s mostly a twitter notification or an app update reminder, not yoongi. never yoongi.

to his defense, he did storm out of seoul unexpectedly, because namjoon and namjoon’s father cannot coexist in peace for longer periods of time and namjoon is honestly done with listening to his father reminding him over and over again how namjoon is supposed to take over the firm soon and namjoon has no more resolve left in him to admit to his father that he has no plans whatsoever of doing that. his mother, as usually, provided no comfort for her only son and namjoon had no other option but to walk out angrily, coming back to his birthplace. it’s the place where namjoon feels at ease the most yet he still can’t talk to anyone. he misses yoongi, though and he’s worried this might strain their relationship but communication is something namjoon just isn’t capable of doing at the moment.

it’s another two days before namjoon decides to pack up, get his shit together and go back home. hopefully the penthouse is empty, he recalls his father saying something or the other about being absent for the whole september and the majority of october but the most namjoon can do is hope. he turns his phone back on and only a single message from donghyuk greets his otherwise static screen

 

> **13:15 donghyuck _hey man idk what’s goin on but i hope you’re doing fine. i’m here if you need to talk but don’t take forever. the crew isn’t the same without you_**

 

and it’s actually all it takes for namjoon to get up, lock the door and head home immediately.

when he walks into the apartment, hunchul’s in the kitchen, raiding his fridge. namjoon almost freezes in case it’s a burglar but hunchul’s cheeks are so puffed with the leftover dumplings that have been there since god knows when namjoon almost laughs out “enjoying yourself?” hunchul tries to swallow the dough in his mouth, eyes wide and he shoves the tray with the remaining dumplings at namjoon, making a few gurgling sounds and namjoon shakes his head “nah i’m not hungry” hunchul replies with an unarticulated sound and goes back to eating.

donghyuk’s in the living room, flipping through channels and he almost falls off the armchair when namjoon walks in. the remote drops to the floor and namjoon watches it tumble down “let me guess, hunchul let you in?” donghyuk makes himself comfortable on the armchair, legs dangling off the side “yep. everyone’s here. we weren’t expecting you for at least two more hours though.” namjoon’s still curious “how did you know i’d come home?” donghyuk shrugs “this isn’t the first time you did this, dumbass. you just need a time out every once in a while.”

donghyuk wasn’t kidding about everyone being there; ikje’s going through his music collection as minwoo and sungkyum watch mnet on the flat screen in his room. he’s pretty sure hyosang’s taking selcas in the hallway with the weird lighting but currently he’s nowhere in sight. sungkyum smiles when he spots namjoon and hunchul walks in behind him, pulling him into a hug “we missed you, man. and sorry for eating your food.” namjoon feels his heart swelling up because his friends did all this for him and the worries he had over his parents seem so distant.

there’s only one person that’s missing and namjoon thinks about texting yoongi, apologizing for not talking to him for almost two weeks but hunchul shoots him a knowing wink “i took care of it. consider it as me trying to redeem myself for what i did last time” and that’s the only explanation namjoon gets before the doorbell rings and when namjoon opens, yoongi’s standing there.

his hair is a little bit longer than the last time, falling into his eyes and he’s wearing a new shirt but his concerned, mildly pissed off expression is the same as always. namjoon really wants to hug him right now but he refrains from doing so, he doesn’t know just how moody yoongi’s feeling at the moment and he doesn’t want to push him.

“you’re back” is the first thing yoongi says and, due to some wonderful miracle, it’s not as angry as namjoon expected it to be. “yeah, i’m back.” yoongi unexpectedly moves closer, wrapping his arms around namjoon’s chest “i missed you.” namjoon gives him a lopsided grin “i know. i missed you too.” and yoongi shoves him off, playfully “so? aren’t you going to invite me in? mannerless brat.” namjoon pulls him in, hands never leaving yoongi’s body and yoongi looks at him, “can we speak somewhere?” he asks, adding “in private” when he sees donghyuk in the living room. namjoon takes him to the balcony, closing the door behind them and it’s already twilight outside, the streetlights slowly turning on gradually.

yoongi looks almost stunning in the semi darkness “namjoon, i was worried sick” yoongi starts. namjoon turns so he’s properly facing him “i know. i’m sorry for making you worried.” yoongi asks “what happened?” and namjoon shrugs “parents. nothing i can’t handle. don’t worry about it.” “so you’re alright now?” and he looks so caring namjoon feels a surge of affection for him run through his chest “you’re here so i am.” yoongi groans “fuck that was cheesy.” but he tiptoes to press his lips against namjoon’s and namjoon remembers how right yoongi feels and how good he tastes.

their kiss deepens just as there’s a sound of the door opening and donghyuk’s, thankfully less permed, head sticks through the gap “hey lovebirds, i’m sorry for ruining your date but minwoo apparently found porn on hunchul’s phone and he’s blackmailing him for it. i don’t think you want to miss hunchul kneeling” namjoon looks down at yoongi, expecting the older to frown at donghyuk’s words but yoongi grins “we’ll be right there” before taking namjoon’s hand in his, interlacing their fingers and dragging him back inside.

in approximately four hours, they’ve drunk enough for a small country and namjoon’s pretty tipsy when hunchul falls into a deep sleep on the sofa in the living room. donghyuk’s half passed out in the corner and ikje finds purpose in life photographing him, probably for blackmail and minwoo and sungkyum are playing nba on namjoon’s playstation. taegyun, who arrived last, as usual, is trying to comment their game and failing miserably, considering he can’t tell his r’s apart from his t’s and hyosang keeps groaning at him to shut up. yoongi’s by namjoon’s side, and namjoon has a feeling yoongi’s slightly more drunk than himself. the way yoongi keeps curling up into him is a dead give away and it takes another thirty minutes for everyone to start packing up, except for donghyuk who decides namjoon’s place is infinitely more comfortable tonight, and hunchul, who remains dead to the world.

it’s well past midnight when namjoon’s alone with yoongi in his room and yoongi’s laughing at something taegyun said. namjoon pulls them both down to the bed, wrapping his arms around yoongi, who immediately presses closer. “namjoon i missed you.” his syllables are just the tiniest bit slurred but namjoon will forgive him for that. “i missed you too.” yoongi looks up “i love you” and namjoon smiles, kissing him softly “i know. you know i love you too.” yoongi’s hands underneath his shirt take him by surprise, but not as much as yoongi’s tongue on his lips.

namjoon knows yoongi’s a fast learner when it comes to blowjobs and even though namjoon never had a taste for them, the sight of yoongi’s lips stretched around his dick drives him insane. however, yoongi has never received a blowjob and namjoon figures out tonight’s a good starter for yoongi’s future life, full of blowjobs and maybe sloppy makeouts in the morning, if they’re not too hungover.

yoongi’s already half hard when namjoon unbuttons his pants and he weakly thrusts up into the general direction of namjoon’s mouth, unsure what he’s reaching up for but namjoon grabs his hips, calming him down. it’s futile, though, because a guttural growl rips from yoongi’s throat when namjoon takes him in his mouth, until the head of yoongi’s dick hits the back of his throat and he hollows out his cheeks, sucking lightly. pale fingers bury themselves in namjoon’s bleached hair, pulling when namjoon licks at the tip, applying slight pressure into the slit. namjoon still has to hold yoongi’s hips down to prevent him from blatantly fucking namjoon’s face but he relaxes his throat, taking in as much as possible and yoongi’s unraveling so beautifully underneath him.

they’ve obviously done this quite a few times, because yoongi no longer comes embarrassingly fast and namjoon feels a burst of pride in his chest thinking about how it’s thanks to him. still, yoongi’s pretty intoxicated and namjoon’s mouth feels too good to postpone orgasm for long. he comes down namjoon’s throat only a few seconds later and namjoon swallows, looking up at yoongi while wiping his lips and yoongi almost chokes at the sight. “fuck okay.” he breathes out as a gulp of air “we’re definitely doing that more often.” and namjoon’s leaning back up “possibly when you’re not piss drunk?”

yoongi tries to save his dignity “i’m not piss drunk” and namjoon all but throws himself down next to yoongi’s body “yeah? if i shoved you off the bed, you’d remain there cause you have no idea which way’s up.” yoongi hiccups “the only up that’s gonna happen if you don’t shut up is my dick up your ass.” “didn’t know you can start dreaming before you actually fall asleep babe” and yoongi tries to give a reply but he’s interrupted by his own yawn and in the span of two minutes, he’s out cold.

when namjoon wakes up, yoongi’s still asleep, messy-haired head on his shoulder and he can almost imagine donghyuk’s irritation as hunchul kicks him in his sleep, hearing his displeased grunts from the living room. yoongi stirs almost at the same time, stretching his back and looking up sleepily at namjoon “good morning it’s so fucking bright?” namjoon automatically replies “that’s your future if you stay with me?” yoongi sticks out his tongue at that.

“namjoon i quit my job.” yoongi’s voice comes distant around five minutes of comfortable silence later. namjoon himself is pretty shocked but he’s pretty sure he knows what yoongi’s doing “why?” yoongi lifts himself up to stare straight into namjoon’s eyes “i sent in my demos a few weeks ago to a bunch of companies and, turns out one of them needed a producer” namjoon’s eyes widen as yoongi smiles that smile that’s half shy half proud “you’re looking at the new producer for jyp.”

“no way” namjoon breathes out and yoongi nods “way” namjoon cups his face and kisses his lips “dude. that’s huge.” yoongi’s still smiling and namjoon feels ecstatic “you did it. holy shit. we need to celebrate.” yoongi shrugs “i thought that blowjob was celebration enough.” but namjoon won’t have any of that “i’m taking you out for dinner tonight.” “no you don’t have to-” “i insist. ‘sides, you’ll pay me back now that you’re bound to get rich and famous.”

namjoon can’t stop the words coming out of his mouth “and when you produce a new wedding march, we’re not using this old, dusty one.” yoongi looks up at him so fast he’s bound to get whiplash “excuse me?” and namjoon laughs “calm down, i’m kidding.” and yoongi visibly relaxes so namjoon continues “but one day. if you want.” yoongi looks down then back up at namjoon’s hopeful eyes “i do.” and then they’re kissing again, soft lips against soft lips before yoongi pulls away “if you think i’m taking your last name, forget it. kim yoongi just sounds dumb.”

**Author's Note:**

> i've literally never been anywhere near seoul idk any of this sorry.  
> also big thanks to my homie [hugeboymino](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hugeboymino%20) for putting up with my mental breakdowns and for rereading this like 42 times for me thank you babe you're the best  
> i'm never writing anything over 20k istg thank god this is done


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